


Why it sucks to be a snake in space

by EboniObsydian



Series: Myths in a Space Castle [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Medicine, Alien anatomy, Canon Divergent, Canon Typical Violence, Centaurs, Dragons, Dubious Mythology, Female pronouns for Pidge, Fluff, Gen, Lance's family - Freeform, Major injuries, Mythology - Freeform, Not Beta Read, Post Season 2, Season 3 influences, Season 4 influences, Shiro is not gone, Sick Characters, Slice of Life, Snakes & Horses AU, Space Uncle Coran (Voltron), Tickles, Trolls, angst all around, broganes, dubious medical jargon, everyone hates hospitals, goofing off for the sake of science, gorgons, how do centaurs even furniture, kaltenecker - Freeform, minor original characters, mother hen Hunk, motion capture is a valid research tool, nagas, polarspaz tumblr AU, probable inconsistent writing due to previous hiatus, space soccer, uncle lance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2018-12-22 08:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 121,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EboniObsydian/pseuds/EboniObsydian
Summary: What do you get when you mix a handful of paladins with a few dashes of Earth mythology?They're still trying to figure that out...And it ain't easy.---Inspired by @polarspaz's Snakes & Horses AU where Keith is a Naga and Lance is a Centaur. Not strictly adhering to the AU since Shiro is a Chuvash dragon instead of a vampire and Pidge uses female pronouns.Tags update with chaptersUpdates sporadically.---Now has art!Find me on tumblr! @bucketoffudgeinamuffin





	1. Like with everything, there is a Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [polarspaz](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=polarspaz).



> Hello and thank you for taking time out of your day to read this.  
> I'm re-entering the fanfic world; I haven't written fanfiction in a long long time so I'm rusty.  
> This is not betaed.  
>  ~~I'm testing the waters for interest in this story. I have more to add if there is. Currently though, I'm at an impass with the desire to write more and the motivation to write more.~~ Readers like this nonsense?!  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something weird turns the paladins into physical manifestations of Earth myths

The first adventures had been figuring out what happened and how to deal with it. 

“It appears that the distress beacon we were following was bait to draw us to that gaseous planet of which the atmosphere is slightly infused with raw quintessence. The core of this planet was actually some form of concentrated energy that reacted to the castle when we approached,” Allura offered, trying very earnestly and almost succeeding in hiding her furrowed brow of discombobulation.

“In layman’s terms, you don’t know,” Lance replied, folding his arms.

“The castle scanners have picked up and documented several strange energy patterns that transpired during the encounter,” Coran supplied. “However, their significance has yet to be determined.”

All anyone knew was that a strange energy unknown to even the castle had caused it and even though they valiantly tried, the second trip through that gaseous storm to get out of it did nothing to reverse their predicament.

Pidge had found it curious that the five of them had been transformed into mythological beings from Earth, right after she covered her eyes with her hands upon seeing the reflection of the snakes on her head and small bat-like wings on her back. Keith had immediately felt cold and sluggish, staring confused at the long red tail easily two times his height in place of his legs; the whole length of himself now being the equivalent of three of his human self. He folded his arms, shivering slightly, subconsciously curling around himself trying to keep warm, his snake tongue flicking in and out of his mouth searching for something, weirding him out.

Shiro had startled himself and the others the most with his transformation, becoming a small western dragon about a fifth the size of the red lion, with black leathery wings, a long tail and covered with black scales, and the length of his spine from head to tail was adorned with small thick plates, though obviously larger than the typical scale covering the majority of his body. His right arm was the dragon limb equivalent of his cybernetic prosthetic. He had long claws with red tints and massive twisted horns protruding backward from his head that were easily the length of one of his human legs and of course a mouth full of sharp fangs. His eyes remained the same though which helped remind them he was human. And he had a white patch on the center of the area just above his forehead. Hunk had a calmer reaction to his transformation. Though he had developed a bit of an underbite with thick tusks on either side of his mouth jutting up from his lower jaw, and had grown some shaggy dark body hair along his thick heavy limbs, his first thoughts had been to calm Lance down.

They had all been standing on the bridge beforehand, close to their stations, so when the boy in question had attempted to walk with suddenly four legs, he immediately slipped on the smooth surface and had gone into hysterics made worse by his inability to get back up. “I can’t get up! My legs, they won’t move like they’re supposed to! Why do I have four legs!?” 

His lower half was like that of dark chestnut Haflinger and all four legs were flailing in uncoordinated attempts to get underneath the main body. Hunk had approached Lance’s top half which was currently trying to push himself off the floor, putting his massive hands on the boy’s shoulders while Keith had made his way over, through sheer determination, to help calm his teammate down. Once Hunk had calmed Lance somewhat, Keith had guided his front legs to fold underneath his main body so he could at least sit upright. “Calm down, Lance. You’re just making things worse for yourself. Bend your knees, yeah, like that. Okay Hunk, lift him up.” Hunk then helped Lance push himself upright and stayed standing at his side while Keith had inadvertently scrunched his tail up and closer to Lance’s lower half, drawn in by the radiating heat, keeping his top half a respectable distance from his side.

Shiro, afraid of crushing someone, stayed close to the head of the bridge and flattened himself as much as he could so Allura could steer the castle ship away from the storm, which after engulfing them, had strangely begun to dissipate. Once deemed in safe open space, Coran mused out loud what each paladin looked like compared to alien species he knew of. “Well, Number 1, you remind me of a Masduulaagii, though much much smaller. And you, number 2, you look like a Mogesi, though a bit taller. Number 3, you’re like an Ihhashi and number 4 I dare say you’re the spitting image of an Ibabi with a rare coloration I must add. Pidge, my educated guess is that you’re a Gurbi, though no one has really seen one alive.” He twisted his mustache, pleased to have provided some answers at least.

Pidge stepped in then, hands still over her eyes, and explained to the Altaens, “Actually Coran, Lance is what humans call a centaur. Hunk is likely a troll. Keith is most definitely a naga and Shiro is a dragon. I’m what we call a gorgon, and gorgons have this nasty tendency of turning people to stone with just a look. So, in that regard, can someone please find me a blindfold?”  
Coran quickly complied and dashed off the bridge.

Upon returning, the mustached man suggested relocating to the lounge. Shiro declined, stating that he obviously wouldn’t fit through the door and that they’d have to figure out some other way to get him off the bridge, speculating that until they can figure out how to reverse the changes, he would probably be taking up residency there. “Yes, let’s move. My knees, weird knees... are these even knees? Whatever they are, they’re starting to hurt. If I have to sit like this, I want it to be on something softer. “Lance was eager to get moving and off the bridge. Guided by Hunk and Keith moving his legs, he haphazardly stood up, towering over the both of them at full height. Slowly though, as his hooves slid with almost every step, he made it out.

In the lounge, Lance reclined on the back side of the couch after taking several of the cushions to put between himself and the floor. Keith coiled up on the couch on the other side of him, his left side leaning against the point opposite of Lance, arms folded, not minding the absence of the cushions. Pidge was on the floor, engaged in an in-depth conversation about human mythology with a fascinated Coran while Hunk worked at a table on some rubber socks for Lance, adding into the conversation here and there.

“Guys, how are we going to get Shiro off the bridge?” Keith wondered.

“What if we can’t? What if we’re stuck like this? What would our families think? Would they even recognize us? What if they don’t and call some private sector of the government, like the M.I.B. and have us sent to Area 51?” Lance rambled. What he didn’t voice was his worries about his reliability as a team member since he was having so much trouble standing up straight, let alone walking, when Shiro walked in with Allura; a more human looking Shiro who had smaller dragon wings, a shorter dragon’s tail, smaller dragon horns on his head and patches of scales on his face and neck.

He grinned, arms folded, and explained “I remembered a story from when I was a kid in school that there were some dragons who could turn human. So I gave it a try. I thought about what it was like to be human, standing on two legs, balancing on them, moving my fingers and grasping things, stuff like that, and something clicked. The next thing I know, I’m opening my eyes and I’m seeing everything at the normal level.”

“Not quite normal. Thanks to those dragon legs of yours, I’d say you’re about seven or eight inches taller,” Pidge commented, pointing out his bare shins that openly displayed how very draconic they were in their digitigrade fashion. He shrugged, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck when a thought interrupted him, “Wait, how can you see with a blindfold on?”

“Somehow I can see through the eyes of the snakes on my head. It’s migraine-inducing to try and see through all of them so I’m focusing on just seeing through one,” she shrugged. “Downer though is that I can’t see in color.” 

“Hey Keith, you’re a snake now. Can you see in color?” Lance asked, turning his head to focus on him, finding the red paladin’s head slumped sideways towards him, nearly asleep. Shiro chuckled and made himself as comfortable as he could on the couch behind Keith, reaching his left arm out to pull Keith towards himself with the intent of acting like a sort-of-human pillow, when he grazed Lance who started, “Shiro, you’re like an ice cube! Almost dry ice cold even!” Shiro immediately jumped away from Keith, afraid to hurt him. Lance reached over the couch to touch Keith’s cheek and found it to be cold, confirming that his teammate was at least in some way ectothermic. Keith leaned into the touch, tongue flicking a few times. Thinking quickly, he scanned the area as Coran jumped up to raise the temperature in the room, double-taking at himself and his lower half. 

“Hunk, lift Keith up and bring him over to me. I can try and be something of a space heater for him and maybe warm him back up.” Hunk tried to princess carry Keith over but ended up just dragging the naga’s tail behind him. Lance hugged Keith close, a glad smile on his face when after a few minutes Keith scrunched his long tail closer to rest against Lance’s horse half. About fifteen minutes later Keith came out of his hazy state, eyebrow raised in confusion partnered with a little pout on his mouth. Realizing where he was he tried to push away from Lance, “Lance! What’s the deal?!”

“Chill dude, I’m trying to help.”

“He’s only trying to help, Keith. Until the air in here warms up, he’s your best option to stay warm, unless you want to fall asleep again,” Shiro explained. Keith scowled slightly as he thought about the situation, then flipped a 180 after realizing Shiro was in the room with them. “Shiro! How did you get here?! How are you sort of human?” Shiro smiled and repeated what he had said earlier.

Once he was warmed enough to not feel so lethargic, he gave Lance a shy thanks, who in turn replied with one of is charismatic smiles and started to say, “For being a hothead you sure are…”

“Hey, isn’t it about dinner time?” Hunk interrupted. Everyone nodded.

Food had been the second adventure. Meat wasn’t commonplace on the castle ship and with two strict carnivores and one who was mostly a carnivore on board, that needed to change. First time Keith tried to eat food goo after transforming his stomach made him give it back and then some not even ten minutes later. Pidge fared a little better but had suffered the same outcome.

Shiro didn’t even try.

Lance ate a lot more to compensate for the extra body mass he had gained but said it wasn’t satisfying. He subsequently was often seen with Hunk in the dining hall eating not just food goo but whatever Hunk could come up with using the limited variety of supplies that were available in the Altean pantry to try and sate all of their seemingly insatiable hunger. Some results of Hunk’s experiments yielded a meat substitute that had settled a bit more for Keith, Pidge and Shiro than the goo but like Lance, it was insufficient for the paladins’ new needs. Shiro had suggested that they set down on a planet to gather supplies and explore to hopefully find that which would be most helpful to them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~So this intro was kinda on the short side. I'm going to come back to it later and rework it but for now, it gets the point across.~~  
>  This chapter has been edited; the dialogue has been added! Hopefully, it gives more flavor than what was here before, for those who are rereading this. And for first timers, I hope you enjoyed it and continue to read more!
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated.  
> Find me on tumblr @bucketoffudgeinamuffin. I post teasers for upcoming chapters as well as reader fanart!


	2. Adventures in gathering food Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith try their hand at hunting.

Three days after T-day - Lance’s term for the day they were transformed - the planet Allura had chosen was surprisingly similar to Earth, at least when it came to the flora. The open land that she had set the castle ship down on was a vast grassland savanna with high reaching grasses, massive shrubs and sparse trees with wide canopies of branches bearing smallish leaves. It was overcast and there was a gentle breeze dancing with the blades that reached as high as Lance’s waist. Keith instantly felt at home while Lance felt restless when they disembarked with Hunk and Shiro.

“Alright, spread out and see what you can find but be sure to keep your radios close. Lance, Keith, you two stick together and see what you can catch. I’ll stick with Hunk and see what we can forage,” Shiro instructed, sweeping his arm when instructing them and then pointing to Hunk and himself.

“Don’t get lost now, Keith. You were small before but now you’re really small,” Lance teased, holding his bayard up as it transformed into a rifle.

“Shut it,” Keith snapped, hefting a drawstring pack over his shoulder as he slithered ahead of him into the grass. Lance shrugged and followed, taking great care not to step on his teammate’s long trailing tail as he walked on the left, a feat that would have been practically impossible a couple days ago; Hunk’s rubber socks and some patient coaching in the training room had helped him keep somewhat coordinated, somewhat being a key word.

Keith used his tracking skills on the ground while Lance used his height to scout in the distance. What Keith could tell from the small tracks and traces he was finding was that the fauna in the area were small type, probably jackrabbits and wildcats, and other such life their size. “Let’s look for a source of water as a start,” he commented in a dull no nonsense tone. Lance nodded, looking off at the horizon for either a shimmer giving away the location of a body of water or perhaps signs of larger wildlife to hunt down. He was about to say something to Keith when an idea came to him.

Instead of their paladin gear and helmets, Allura had given the four paladins radios that rested in the ear. Pushing against the one in his right ear, he asked, “Coran, can you detect any source of water nearby?”

“Just a tick number three. Scanners indicate a river running from the northwest to the south that’s about 500 meters to your left. They’re also indicating various lifeforms so be cautious.”

“I’m always cautious,” Lance replied with a tooth shining grin. He looked to Keith, expecting a retort only to see his teammate flicking his narrow black snake tongue out repeatedly as he slowly twisted from the torso, right to left. “Dude, what are you doing?”

Keith snapped to attention, tongue slipping back into his mouth. He cocked an eyebrow at Lance, “Nothing. What did Coran say?”

“That definitely wasn’t nothing but whatever. Coran says there’s water that way and that there is definitely a few live things there.”

“Then let’s go.” Keith shifted the strap on his shoulder and moved ahead of Lance, his tongue exploring the air intermittently. Lance wondered if he was even aware of what he was doing. It was subtle, except when Lance was actively watching it slip unobtrusively between Keith’s lips and then back, his mouth just barely twitching each time. Shaking his head after a few minutes of watching, he focused on watching the horizon for movement.

Some time later Keith mumbled, “I smell water. We’re close.”

“That is some nose you have because I can’t smell anything except grass,” Lance replied, breathing in deeply in attempts to pick up the scent and not succeeding. He was about to say something when Keith dropped to the ground onto his hands, planking. His tongue flicked rapidly as his eyes scanned the ground around him. Shucking the pack he crawled forwards on his hands for a bit, and then lunged forwards into the grass, catching something between his hands. It went into his mouth just as quickly. Lance just barely caught sight of a reptile tail before whatever it was was swallowed whole. “Holy crow, Keith! Have you gone nuts?!”

“What do you mean ‘have I gone nuts’? Just because I can smell water and you can’t doesn’t mean I’m crazy.” Keith pushed himself back upright, seemingly clueless about what he just did as he shouldered the pack again.

“No, you’ve gone nuts because not only did you just catch and swallow whole some random critter that we don’t even know is safe for us to be eating or not, you just plain forgot you did!”

Keith pointed at Lance about to argue back, pausing abruptly as he felt something shift in his belly. Covering his mouth, he turned to the side like he was about to be sick and though he gagged and retched, nothing came up. After a moment, he mumbled into his hand, “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You’ve been acting weird ever since we landed. It started with your tongue. What are you feeling right now? Aside from totally grossed out?”

Keith dropped his hand, looking down in thought. Brushing dirt and debris off his front he responded quietly, “Hungry. Really really hungry.” Looking up, he continued. “You think I’ve been acting on some sort of instinct?”

“That would be my best guess. Maybe we can use that to our advantage though. Just, reign yourself in a bit.”

“I’ll try.”

“And that is all I ask. Though do tell me if you start to feel sick; that thing you ate could be poisonous.”

Keith just nodded. His tongue was flicking again, though this time he appeared to be doing it on purpose. Lance couldn’t help himself. “What are you doing?”

“It’s like I can taste and smell the water at the same time, as well as other things,” he tried to explain as he moved forward. “I’m trying to sort through these different scents to figure out which ones could be useful.” A pause as he flicked his tongue out several times. “But it’s difficult to do when I have no idea what to categorize most of these scents as. There are definitely more than what I’ve ever picked out as a human.”

“Well, you somehow knew that one of them was considered food because you found the source and ate it without much thought. So maybe don’t think about it so hard and let your snake half do the sorting.” Lance abruptly stopped Keith with a hand on his shoulder. “I see something ahead. Hand me those binoculars I’m sure you packed. Because if you didn’t, what kind of boy scout are you?”

Keith shrugged off the bag and after a moment handed them over, commenting, “Don’t you have a scope on your bayard?”

“Shush,” was the retort. A moment’s silence was followed up by “Binoculars are better for scanning wide areas. Scopes are for pinpointing a spot in a narrow space.”

Keith nodded, though Lance didn’t see. He was sorely tempted to climb up onto Lance’s second back to see over the grass better, disliking not being in the know. “What do you see?”

“Some huge beasts that sort of look like wooly mammoths, except they have four tusks - two major ones and then just inside those, two smaller ones that aren’t as long - and just a shaggy head of hair, no body hair. There’s a small group of them, Three big ones, five medium sized ones and I think maybe two babies. They’re much smaller than the rest and are being hidden by many legs.” Lance lowered the binoculars to focus on Keith. “I think we should look further down river. I don’t want to risk those things seeing us. We’d be stomped flat before our brains even registered we were underfoot.”

“Agreed.” He stowed the binoculars. Wetting his finger, he held it above his head, waiting. When a breeze blew by he studied his finger intently. “Down wind is actually to the north.”

“I think I should take point.”

“Why?” Keith scowled.

“Because I can see further than you, duh.” Lance was raising his hands at the obviousness.

“Oh, right.” Keith waited for Lance to move ahead, following behind him through the path his larger body cut through the grass. It then occurred to him that with Lance focusing on what could be seen, he could focus on what he was smelling/tasting with his weird snake tongue, which seemed to always want to be out of his mouth while they were moving. He quickly pinpointed Lance’s scent with him being in front. The grasses were the other most common scents. Water was fainter; he compared it to what he could smell when a rainstorm was imminent, though not quite as vague.

Lance interrupted his focus. “I see some bird things. Should we try for those?”

“How big are they?”

“Not very. Maybe around the size of a common chicken.”

“Let’s try for bigger game first.”

“If you say so.”

“Think about it; we’d have to catch dozens of those to last maybe a week. With bigger game, there’s more available meat per animal than with a measly bird.”

“If we can find something we can take down, just the two of us.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out. We’re a good team after all.”

Lance smiled at that. “Yeah, we are.”

“Let’s keep moving.”

Twenty minutes later the chorus of many bleating and grunting animals came to Lance’s ears. Keith immediately handed him the binoculars. “I think we’re in luck! There’s a herd of albino zebra things up ahead at a bend in the river. They’ve got the gold stripes, but also six legs and antlers. There’s some smaller ones too, probably juveniles. Think we can nab one?”

“Anything in the water?”

“I can’t tell from this distance. But the herd is skittish, so possibly.”

Lance didn’t see but, Keith was supporting his chin in thought. “I’m going to get closer and single one out. Watch for me, and when you see an opening, take it.” Without giving him a chance to confirm, Keith dropped the pack and slithered off, following his instinct as much as the direction Lance had been looking. Lance groaned, dropping the binoculars onto the discarded pack and readying his bayard, searching for Keith to appear somewhere close to the herd. “You know, Keith, I could just single one out from all the way back here and drop it. But, noooo, you have to be a hot-head and get in the middle of everything,” he complained to himself.

One minute passed. Two minutes. Five. Lance couldn’t find Keith in the grass, the signs of the naga’s movement so quiet, so subtle, that his eye could not pick them out. Eight minutes. He’s watching the bank where the beasts are taking turns drinking, mentally picking one out that he tells himself would be the perfect one to drop. Ten minutes, there’s still no signs of Keith in the tall grass that’s about ten feet away from the bank. There’s nothing showing itself in the water either. Thirteen minutes, the beasts that have had their fill are restless in the back of the herd, away from the bank. The smaller ones that have yet to drink are dwindling; the perfect time to strike is passing, he thinks.

Fourteen minutes and his eye barely catches the shimmer of something fly through the grass, the subsequent cries of fear demanding that everyone run. Quickly scanning with his scope for the object, he spots Keith’s knife stuck behind the joint of the left front leg of one of the smaller beasts rearing up and turning circles in confusion as the others try to order themselves and run away from the bank and the spot from which the danger is presumed to be. This is all happening in a matter of seconds and just as Lance determined he doesn’t have a shot, he saw a red line strike out from the wall of grass and grab onto the back legs of his victim, hanging on the best he can as he is dragged through mud and debris before being flung off by a mighty backwards kick. Freed, it rears up vehemently, striking out with its front legs to dislodge the knife before running away with the last of the herd. Keith is lying prone on the ground, motionless. “Keith!” Abandoning the pack, Lance secured his grip on his rifle and beelined it straight to his fallen teammate. “Keith! Keith! Oh please don’t be dead!”

Lance skids to a halt next to Keith’s side, kneeling on the ground and dropping his bayard. As it transforms into its default shape Lance gingerly rolls Keith onto his back to allow the naga to breathe more freely. Keith gasps deeply, coughing, his hands reaching for something so Lance grabs one between his two. “Keith, buddy, are you alright?” No response for several moments, just deep breaths, each one more steady than the one before. Lance hadn’t even realized the firmness of Keith’s grip until he relaxed. “I’m okay, Lance. Just had the wind knocked outta me.” He tried to sit up but Lance gently pressed on his chest. “Rest a bit more.”

Keith complied.

Laying Keith’s hand across his own chest, Lance studies his friend. “You weren’t kicked were you?”

Keith shakes his head minutely. “No. Just thrown. Very, very hard.”

“What were you thinking, grabbing onto that thing like that?”

“I thought I could trip it, force it to the ground. And when I saw my knife hadn’t worked, I wanted to make sure I got it back.” Keith arched his back so he could look behind him, searching for his knife. Lance got the hint, awkwardly stood and retrieved it for him. Looking at it briefly, he could see no signs of blood on the blade, tip or elsewhere. Keith watched him intently until Lance wrapped his gloved hands over the hilt. “Here.” Keith looked it over, a subtle relaxed smile on his face. Sitting up, he sheathed it. “Thanks.”

Rolling over, he pushed himself upright as Lance grabbed his bayard and got back on his hooves. Both surveyed the scene. Keith’s stomach growled causing him to pout a bit. Lance chuckled lightheartedly. “Maybe we should try for something else.”

“I still think we can get one of those. Their hide is just harder than an actual zebra.”

“Next time, let me shoot it first. If I can knock one down, you can finish it off with your knife.” Lance thought for a second, adding, “Or bite it. Are you poisonous?”

Keith shook his head. “I don’t have the right fangs to be a viper. I think I’m a constrictor. You know, like a python.”

“Maybe you can strangle it then instead of trying to get through the hard hide.” Lance tapped his chin with his deactivated bayard.

“Maybe.” Keith folded his arms, pondering. His stomach complained again. Keith let his shoulders sag. Lance rested his hand on one. “Did you pack rations of any kind?”

“Yeah, but that stuff isn’t worth anything. It’s like filling up on water.”

Lance patted him. “But it’s the best we’ve got. Unless you want to eat mysterious critters again.”

Keith shook his head. He eyed the river, tongue flicking out again. “I’ll get the pack. See if there’s anything in the water that we could try for, like fish or something.”

Just as he turned to retrace their steps, Lance grinned menacingly. “Bet you wish we had an alien chicken carcass right about now.” Keith hissed, which surprised Lance whom was totally expecting a growl. Rather than reply though, Keith just slithered off.

It wasn’t too hard to locate the pack; Lance and his big body had cut a noticeable path through the grasses in his sprint. Keith was sulking a bit though, hungry and annoyed at how this trip was not faring in their favor so far. He was sure it was because he was so hungry that his tongue was constantly flicking and he really couldn’t blame it, or blame himself. There was just so much that he, or any of the paladins, still had to learn about their transformations. His brooding was interrupted by a distinct scent, one that seemed vaguely familiar. Cautiously with one hand he moved the tall grass in front of him aside to spot the pack and there, investigating the pack, some fuzzy lizard creature that looked like a cross between a rodent and an anole. If Keith could still salivate he probably would be drooling at that moment. The creature wasn’t that big, its main body about the size of his palm; its tail and legs were like a grey lizard and it had a lizard’s head, the rest of its narrow body had light brown fur on it.

Slowly he lowered himself to the ground, supporting his upper torso on his forearms, bunching his tail muscles up in preparation, tongue flicking in and out, eyes watching every move. Ever so slightly he inched himself forward, watching the creature for signs of flight. Closer. Closer. Wait. STRIKE! His hands reached forward in attempt to pin the creature between them. He missed but reacted quickly enough to snare the back half with his left hand. Grasping firmly with both hands he just about had the thing in his mouth when the memory of Lance’s voice of caution stopped him. His disappointment was palpable.

He held the lizard thing in front of him, watching it scramble to get free, trying to bite his hand but not able to get through his glove or the tough scales on his fingers. He pitied the thing but couldn’t bring himself to set it free. Deftly he snapped its neck and retrieved the pack, shouldering it as he turned a u-shape to return to Lance, unable to pivot on his heel due to the lack of having one, with the dead creature clutched in hand. Maybe he could still eat it after showing Lance what it was.

When he got back to where Lance was waiting, Lance wasn’t there. Instead, drawn in the mud with a line that could have only been made with a hoof, was an arrow pointing in the direction he went. Keith frowned as he moved forward.

He spotted the centaur up ahead about ten minutes later, waist deep in the river, leaning over with his hands in the water, head moving like he was tracking something. Curious, concerned and annoyed all at the same time, he slithered up to the bank. “Lance!” he called out.

“Welcome back! Hey, I found some carp things. Sit tight while I catch one,” Lance responded, looking at him for only a moment to acknowledge the space he was in before focusing immediately on something that Keith couldn’t see.

“You’re trying to catch a fish with your bare hands?” Keith questioned, disbelieving.

“No, I’m playing in the water while you’re starving. Of course I’m catching a fish!” Lance wrinkled his nose in annoyance.

Keith starred. He wasn’t serious, was he? Setting the pack down he noticed that Lance wasn’t wearing his signature jacket; it was high on the bank, neatly folded. That curiosity sated, he coiled around himself and got comfortable, using his own tail as a cushion to lay across as he lazily watched his teammate do his thing. The dead lizard creature lay on top of the pack, forgotten.

Lance twisted and moved with intent in the water, each motion with precision; he was herding something. Gradually he got to a point where he was facing up river and was gently herding his prey a bit closer to the shallows. When he was finally content with the situation, he took in a deep breath and slipped under the surface, coming up a minute later with a large fish in hands, one grasping the tailfins, the other cupped inside the fish’s right gills. It writhed and squirmed violently in his grasp but Lance’s hold was firm as he steadily made his way out of the water, each step carefully placed for optimal sturdiness so as to not be caught by the current.

Keith’s eyes were wide with surprise. As Lance stepped further out of the river, his catch struggled less and less, gasping for breath. Water ran off of his sides as he climbed out, leaving a wet sheen on his coat in its wake. Keith pushed himself upright as Lance approached, showcasing his prize. “Didn’t think I could do it, did you?” He had a signature grin on his face, seasoned with a ‘proved you wrong’ glimmer. Keith didn’t know how to respond so he looked down, mumbling, “Sorry I doubted you.”

“No harm done. Here,” he shoved the fish into Keith’s chest to get his attention. Reflex had him grabbing hold of it. For the most part, it did seem like a typical average carp species. Instead of two pectoral fins close to the gills, there were four. And it had what appeared to be antennae that were as long as its body. The length of the fish was about the same as the length of his arm, if not just a bit smaller. Keith was dumbfounded. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Eat it, duh! That’s why I caught it, so you could have something besides fake meat to eat,” Lance answered, wringing water out of his shirt. “Test it first just to be sure.” Keith lowered himself to the level he would have been if he were sitting with his legs crossed. Lance followed Keith’s hand as it reached for the pack, jumping in surprise at Keith’s ‘catch’. “What the cheese is that?!” he questioned, pointing.

Without missing a beat Keith answered, “I think it’s another one of those mysterious critters I ate. Found it on top of the pack. Figured it could be tested when I got back.” He left out the part of almost eating it. Said thing fell off the pack when Keith brought it closer to himself, rummaging through a pocket for a handheld bioscanner that Hunk and Pidge had created for field use. Unlike the large scanners on the castle ship, it required a the insertion of a probe into the tissue that would send a low level laser through the it to determine its biological composition and most importantly, if there was anything potentially toxic. Though, back when it was constructed, the paladins were still human.

The alien fish had gone limp, either not quite dead or completely dead, so he set it on the ground to free both hands to use the device. Its construction was like a notepad with a writing utensil attached to the side with a lead. Pulling the probe free, he firmly poked it into the fish’s side, the device coming to life automatically. A minute later, it beeped, listing chemical composition and nutritional value data. If there was something dangerous it would have been listed in bold. “It’s clean,” he reported, removing the probe.

Lance had laid down his horse half while Keith had worked, his front legs underneath him with his back legs were to the side so he was resting on his flank. “That’s great. Dig in.”

Keith frowned. “What about you?” he asked, wiping the probe with a rag from the pack before returning it to its pocket.

“I’m not the one who hasn’t had anything decent in the past few days. I caught it specifically for you. If you’re worried about me, I’ll just go catch another one but honestly, I’m fine.”

“Alright.” He took off his gloves and stuck them in one of the pouches on his belt. From the pack he retrieved a different knife and started cleaning the fish. Lance poked at the dead thing, swishing his tail idly. The quiet was comfortable, the ambience of the running water soothing. Keith tossed the guts and head of the fish creature back into the water and just as Lance thought it was time to look for stuff to start a cooking fire, Keith bit into the fish, tearing off a chunk. “Wait wait wait! Don’t you want to cook it first?!” He waved his hands in a stop motion, flustered.

“It’s a fresh catch. And we don’t have time to make a cooking fire,” Keith responded after swallowing his mouth full of fish whole. “And before you ask, I don’t have molars so I can’t chew on this very well.”

Lance folded his arms, frowning slightly. “Yeah, that was my next question.” He watched the naga tear into the fish again, slightly grossed out.

“Snakes usually eat meat raw, Lance,” Keith stated, mouth in a pout. “You don’t have to watch me eat either if it upsets you that much.”

Lance shook his head to clear it. “Right, sorry. You thirsty? I’m thirsty,” he rambled, reaching for the pack.

“Save the pouches for later. Use the filtration device,” Keith instructed around a mouthful. Lance just hummed in response, pulling out something that looked like a large thermos. Getting up, he mosied to the bank, knelt, unscrewed the top of the thermos thing and dunked it into the water, taking care not to catch sediment. Once it was full, he capped it and returned to Keith, laying down like before. It would take five minutes for the water to filter through the Altean filter mediums so he occupied his time by looking out over the water, watching the currents make small waves on the surface. “How long have we been out here, you think?”

Keith finished off the fish, bones and all. “Probably a few vargas. Who knows how long the sun is up on this planet,” he answered, glaring at the fish scales stuck to his hands. He moved to the bank to wash them as Lance opened the thermos thing, removing the bottom reservoir where the clean water had collected. He drank deeply, relishing the cold water. Before he realized it, all the water was gone. “Oops. Did you want some?”

“Nah, I’m good.” He shook the water off his hands, wiping them on his shirt to attempt to dry them. Lance stowed the filter back in the pack and shoulder it. “I’ll carry it for a while.” He looked up river where they had yet to go, then to the horizon behind them. “What do you want to try for?”

Putting his gloves back on, Keith suggested, “Go after the herd? I don’t think we’ll have much luck sticking to the river.”

“It’s likely some distance away from here.” Lance mused, reaching for his jacket and picking up his bayard. “Hop on.” he tied the jacket around his waist.

“What?” Keith raised and eyebrow, confused.

“If we want to cover the distance we’ll have to run. And I dare say I run faster than you can move. So hop on.”

Keith was about to question Lance’s capacity to run but stopped; he should be more trusting. Lance saw the question in his expression anyways. “It can’t be that much more difficult than walking. Now get over here.” He complied, getting close to Lance’s horse half as the centaur adjusted himself so he was kneeling on all fours, not just is front legs. Keith clambered up, shifting himself so his torso was centered behind Lance’s, moving his tail so it was sort of balanced on either side but, that still left it hanging low to the ground when Lance stood; where either of them could get hurt. “Wrap your tail under, just don’t squeeze too tight. Think of how a saddle is strapped on. I should be able to move just fine and you’ll be more secure. Wrap your arms around my waist too.” Keith quickly situated himself, thinking how this situation was more cuddly than he usually liked. It couldn’t be all that bad though, right? Keith wrapped his arms around Lance’s chest instead; it was more comfortable and secure that way. “This okay?”

“That’s perfect. I’ll go slow at first to test it out.” Keith nodded even though Lance couldn’t see him. The centaur started at a walk, then moved up to a canter. Keith adjusted himself in stride both to keep balance and to give Lance more freedom of movement. He also claimed the pack since it bounced awkwardly on just one of Lance’s shoulders, hitting him. Confident, Lance went into a full blown gallop, causing the foreground to blur. Keith couldn’t help himself; he laughed out loud at the thrill generated by the speed.

Lance could only keep that speed for ten minutes or so before he slowed to a steady walk, gasping deeply. “Well,” he breathed, “That was fun.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed, grinning. While Lance caught his breath he looked around for signs of the herd. Thunder gave only a minute warning before rain started to fall. Lance lifted his face to it, grinning. Keith’s tongue went on overdrive and he felt restless. He must have been fidgeting because Lance noticed. “You okay?”

Keith had to think a moment, reigning his wild tongue in. “I feel… something. Excited isn’t the right word but, the rain has something to do with it.”

“I like rain too. That’s not what you’re talking about. I mean, someone like you wouldn’t get hyper over a bit of rain.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Keith scowled.

Lance held his hands up, “Nothing, nothing. What I’m saying is that maybe this is more of your instinct or something. You’re tongue is more active, I don’t know if you are aware.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” Keith focused on the scents he was smell tasting, noticing a difference with Lance’s scent. He quickly noticed that some of the other scents around him were stronger. “I think it’s my hunting instinct. Some of the scents are stronger, some of them are lighter.”

“You’re still hungry?” Lance asked in disbelief.

“You honestly thought that fish would fill me up?” Keith retorted.

“Maybe.”

“It was more of a snack. You’ve got a bigger body now you should understand that it takes more to feel satisfied.”

“Point taken.” Lance cleared his throat, ready for a change in topic. He had continued walking during their conversation, choosing to stop as he broached his new topic. “Back to hunting, should we still try for the herd or try for something new?”

“The rain is washing away the trail. We could follow but I don’t think we would find them in time.”

“Or, we could ask Coran! Why didn’t I think of this earlier!” Lance pounded a fist into his open hand. Pressing on the radio in his ear he hailed the mustached Altean. “Coran?”

“Ah, number three. Been a couple of vargas since you checked in. Everything alright?” Lance could just picture the man twirling the end of his mustache.

“Fine fine, enjoying the rain. Listen, Keith and I encountered some six-legged beasts that look promising in terms of edibility. Our first attempt to get one failed and we lost track of the herd. Think you can give us a hand and point us in their direction? There was roughly fifty of them.”

“Isn’t that cheating, using the castle’s scanners to do your tracking for you?” Coran teased.

“Coran, we’re not out here for pleasure. If this were a different situation then yeah, I’d say we’re cheating. But right now, we’re utilizing available resources.” Lance countered, folding his arms.

“Right right, have to keep you paladins fed and healthy. Best way is to do so in an efficient and effective manner. How is number four?”

“I’m fine, Coran,” Keith answered before Lance could say anything; he had activated his radio too. “Lance caught me a fish.”

“Progress! And it shall continue. Scanners have picked up several bio signatures clustered together, likely the herd you’re talking about, approximately four kilometers south of your location. I think you would also like to know that you’re about twenty kilometers away from the castle itself. Be cautious not to stray too far else you two are camping overnight.”

“Got it, thanks, Coran,” Keith answered, switching his radio to standby, scratching at his pointed ear in attempts to sooth the irritation that the device was causing. “I think we’ll move faster by staying like this. If you’re up to it, try just running, not sprinting.”

“Got it.” Lance nodded. He shifted into a steady lope, the thrum of his hooves hitting the ground softened by the rattle of the falling rain. He held up and arm in front of his face to block some of the rain from his eyes; Keith tried to use Lance’s torso as a buffer while staying on the lookout for the herd. Fifteen minutes or so, Lance slowed to a walk, breathing heavy. Keith’s tongue immediately went exploring. The rain showed no signs of letting up. “Hand me the binoculars, Keith. I want to see if I can spot them.”

“I can’t smell them, what makes you think you could see them?” Keith challenged, handing them forward. Lance stopped moving, scanning the horizon of intermittent trees and varying lengths of the tall grasses drooping slightly from the abuse of the falling water, with them pressed against his face with one hand, the other acting like a visor.

“You said some scents were lighter. So maybe you can’t pick up on theirs until we get closer.”

“If theirs is anything like yours, it should be stronger,” Keith huffed.

“Are you saying that I stink?” Lance accused.

“I didn’t say it like that and you know it,” Keith defended.

“If I don’t stink, then what do I smell like?” Lance pulled the binoculars away from his eyes far enough that he was able to look over his shoulder to see Keith in his peripheral vision.

“The closest thing I can compare it too is wet fur and floral body wash.”

“Then what do you smell like?” Lance frowned, challenging Keith.

“I don’t know! Whatever a snake smells like and mud,” he pouted. Lance didn’t comment, instead returning to the binoculars. After a few moments he mumbled, “I see something small, alone. It looks like a dog-sized guinea pig.”

“A capybara?”

“If that’s what an overgrown rodent looks like, sure.” He handed the binoculars back to Keith. “Those things aren’t edible, are they?”

“Yes,” he answered blankly, taking a peek for himself.

“No way am I going to eat a rodent.” Lance held up his arms in a cross in front of his chest. Keith felt the shudder go through Lance’s lower half. 

“You eat food goo without knowing what’s in it. I bet if you didn’t know what it was you’d eat it willingly,” Keith countered, packing the binoculars.

“Trust me, I would know the instant someone tries to slip me some exotic meat.”

“Lance, we’re in space, hunting alien animals. Everything we eat is exotic compared to the norms on Earth,” Keith state matter-of-factly. “Besides, it might not even be a rodent. It could be a pig, or a dog.”

“No way am I eating a dog. And I won’t let you eat a dog either.”

“But you’ll eat it if it’s a pig?”

“Of course! Chicharrones,” Lance grinned, imagining the taste. “And roasts and sandwiches and chops. Pork is tasty. Oh now I want it to be a pig, or pig-like. It would be a taste of home.” His eyes shifted downcast, feeling homesick.

“One way to find out. Think you can get closer to it without scaring it off?”

“Easy peezy.”

“Then do it.”

Lance seemed to switch gears, focused on the task at hand. He loped a bit to close the distance, slowing as soon as his sharp eyes could pick out the vague shape of the creature he spotted. He gestured for the binoculars again, focusing not just on the grazing capybara thing, but on the immediate surrounding environment, making mental notes for where to scan using his scope. Changing to his bayard, which nigh instantly transformed into a rifle, he lifted the scope to his eye, pointing it in the direction he had mapped out in his mind before looking through the lense.

The creature was in greater detail through the lense. Lance could see small tusks jutting from lip of the creature’s square jaw, bordering the square nose on a rectangular face. He could see six legs - seemed like almost everything had six legs on this planet - though the two in front were shorter than the others, resting above the ground while the other four were weight bearing, and he couldn’t guess what evolutionary reason that would be for and promptly brushed that curiosity aside. It had digits instead of hooves and the last things he noticed were the folded triangular ears and the wiry tail sticking erect from the back end.

“Keith, stay as still as possible. Or if you can’t, tell me now and I’ll give you time to slide off.” Lance hissed, hyper focused, noting the increase in the rainfall, taking stock of every movement his muscles made and the hesitant kiss on his cheek the breeze was giving.

“Just a tic,” Keith whispered as he quickly unwrapped and lowered himself to the wet ground. He scooted to the side, giving Lance some breathing room, observing how taunt and still his teammate was, how his breathing had quieted and slowed, each intake deliberate and measured. His focus then shifted to a target he could barely make out, but its scent his tongue could pick up. Lance drew in a deep breath, held it for a second, and then pulled the trigger as he exhaled. There was no sound aside from the blast from the bayard but, Keith could quickly identify the scent of blood on the air. Lance grinned widely, lowering his bayard. “That’s why I’m called the Sharpshooter.”

“Great job, Sharpshooter,” Keith commended, following Lance as he went after the kill. As if shocked by the deed, the rain slowed.


	3. Adventures in gathering food Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith debate over Lance's kill and continue on to try and get an alien zebra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: There is some bodily function and anatomy talk in this chapter. If that is not your thing, there's a tl;dr at the end that is a summary of what happens.  
> Changed rating to Teen because of this.

Coming upon the fresh carcass, Keith saw the finer details that Lance had seen through his scope, as well as the fatal wound on the side of the beast’s head. He whistled, impressed. But before Lance could gloat he stated in his monotone way, “I don’t think this is anywhere close to a pig, Lance. Those feet have more than two toes and those toes have claws, not hooves.”

“But it’s got tusks! And those ears are like a pig, right? That tail definitely says pig,” Lance defended, wiping rain from his brow. He reached for the bag Keith was about to drop in the mud after fishing out the scanner. “I’ll hold that.”

Jabbing the probe through the tough hide, Keith countered, “Fine, fine. You can have the tusk point. But these ears are more canine than pig. And the paws are definitely rodent.” The device beeped, listing a small paragraph in bold. “Bioscanner says that there’s something potentially poisonous. Nothing specific is listed but it says there’s a similarity to an antibiotic that was banned from use in ranches before I think Iverson was even born.” Removing the probe, he wiped it clean with the rag Lance pulled from the pack.

“How old is Iverson even, you think?” Lance queried.

Keith shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not something that’s ever concerned me so I haven’t given it any thought.”

“Then how do you know that antibiotic was banned before he was born if you don’t know his age?”

Keith handed him the device to return to the pack. “Iverson can’t be more than 55 years and still be at the Garrison. Their protocols wouldn’t allow someone that old to be on site as an instructor. That antibiotic was banned 62 years ago.” Keith explained, curling a finger under his chin and studying the carcass as he added, “How Hunk even has that kind of information available to program into that scanner is what intrigues me.”

“Hunk stores all sorts of information in that beautiful brain of his. It scares me the way he can ramble off some obscure trivia and factoids just as a dinner conversation.” Lance offered. “Besides, why is there a manufactured substance inside an alien?” He prodded it with a hoof.

“It’s not the antibiotic itself, but something similar to it. Probably a byproduct produced as a result of this thing’s metabolism. Or maybe it’s in the food that it eats.” Keith clarified. Lowering himself to the ground he dug his hands underneath the carcass and hefted it up against his chest, leaning back a bit to keep balance before maneuvering it up to where it was resting over both his shoulders. “Hunk and the castle scanners will be able to tell if we can safely eat this or not.” He rose to his usual, comfortable height.

Lance’s hands immediately reached out, “Uh, are you sure you can carry that? It looks heavy.”

“I’m fine. Let’s get going. I still want to grab one of those zebra things if we can before sun down.” He moved forward in the direction of the herd. Sighing, Lance let his arms fall to his sides, defeated by Keith’s stubborn streak yet again. Shifting the pack on his shoulder, he trotted along, oblivious to the rain that continued to fall in its lazy, unyielding way.

Eight minutes, give or take, later Lance spoke up. 

"Wait here, I'll be back in a tic," Lance abruptly said, heading off to the side.

Keith stopped and looked in the direction Lance was wandering off to. "Where are you going?" He asked loudly.

"I need a few minutes of me time if you must know!" Lance huffed over his shoulder. About two minutes later he ducked into some grass out of Keith's line of sight. Keith looked away, tongue flicking.

He heard Lance approaching about three or four minutes later before looking back around. "Man, I miss the fineness of being human with two legs." He scuffed a hoof before they wordlessly started moving again.

"There's a finesse to using the toilet?" Keith asked.

"Well yeah! You've got a comfortable distance between yourself and what you're getting rid of, it's collected in an effective manner without spreading even on the worst of days and when you're done, flush it away and it's gone!" he rambled.

Keith remained quiet, more out of not having anything to respond with than pensiveness. The rain offered no respite.

Lance was undaunted though. "Now it's super awkward. I can't aim. The toilets are too small. And when I'm done I can't even make sure I'm clean back there! And everyone can see my man parts because pants aren't something I can wear anymore!"

"Lance, calm down. You're not exposed. And you must have figured something out because it's the third day and you've eaten a significant amount of foodstuffs." Keith stated calmly.

"Well, yeah. But I still don't like it." Lance folded his arms, grumbling. "I'll never take having just two legs and being able to wear pants for granted again." He kicked at a rock sending it sideways. "Hunk, Pidge and even Shiro are so lucky."

"Why are you even talking about this?" Keith wondered honestly.

"Because it's important!" Lance flustered, hands raised. "Wait a tic. Why aren't you upset?” He pointed at Keith gently. “You don't have any legs so you must have a miserable time too. Where is your other end even?" he raised an eyebrow at Keith who continued to look forward, stone faced.

"I don't know."

Lance's jaw dropped. "What do you mean you don't know?!" His arms hung limply, weighed by his disbelief.

"I just don't know. I haven't needed to figure it out yet." He turned to face Lance, stoic. "Snakes have slower metabolisms, Lance. And in the last three days I've hardly eaten anything without throwing it back up. So no, I haven't thought about it."

"You haven't even thought about where your man parts are?" He gestured.

"Can we find something else to talk about?" Keith rambled, pushing ahead of Lance a bit.

Lance paused in his stride a moment, folding his arms again, a neutral expression on his face. "So you have thought about it?"

"Lance! Please! Find something else to talk about!" Keith was blushing slightly, the pink reaching up to the tips of his pointed ears, blending in with the red scales over the tops of them.

Lance quieted, letting several minutes of silence pass before he asked the wind, “I wonder if Shiro’s man parts are still where they’re supposed to be, what with him being a dragon and all. Where do dragon man parts even go?”

Keith facepalmed himself with more force than was necessary to convey a point. “I’m sure you can ask him, preferably when I’m NOT around.” Dragging said hand down his now sore face he pleaded, “Now can you please find some other topic to drawl about?”

Lance obliged, rambling about the possible dishes Hunk could make out of their alien pig catch.

Time unmeasured moved them along and Lance was the first to hear the bleating and grunting of a herd of animals. Cautiously closing the distance, the two paladins spotted a few of alien beasts on the outskirts of the herd, standing grumpily in the rain, nosing the ground and nibbling at the grasses but not really grazing. Maybe they were lookouts? Maybe they were just plain miserable in the rain. Whatever the case, Keith eased his load to the ground, rotating his shoulders and stretching his neck when free of the weight.

“So, since we were so successful the first time, new plan.” Lance immediately starts. “You can get in close but I’ll pick one and see if I can wound it enough to make it fall. Then you can slide in and make the finishing move.”

“Think your bayard can pierce their hide? My knife couldn’t even do that.” Keith was landmarking, looking for easily identifiable objects by which to triangulate the spot he was standing so he could find the alien capybara carcass after their latest attempt at downing an alien zebra. Approximately fifty yards away stood one of the skinny savanna trees, leaves drooping from the weight and beating the rain was giving. Lifting the carcass in his arms he quickly relocated it under its canopy. Lance stayed where he was, studying the herd. Only when Keith reached the tree did he move to follow. Within reasonable hearing he answered, “If I aim for a vulnerable point, I think it’ll work.”

Keith didn’t ask twice. “Hand me the bag. I’ll observe from here for a bit before closing in.”

Lance shrugged it off and lifted his bayard to eye level as it transformed into his rifle and zeroed in on one of the alien zebra. His finger rested parallel to the trigger, laying across the cage that housed it instead of in the space between; he had no intentions of shooting, just observing, gathering information. A handful of minutes pass before he lifts his head, blinking to readjust his vision, before quickly adjusting his focus on a different zebra. Keith watched silently through the binoculars, focusing more on the larger mass than the individuals on the sidelines.

Taking more time to study them and their behavior, Keith noted that though they had antlers, there was a diversity to them. Some were branched like deer while others were singular and twisted like antelope. And the stripe patterns were varied too; some had fewer and thicker stripes that were more like tigers, the ones that had the branched antlers he noted, and others had many and thinner stripes that were more like the zebras on Earth they were being compared to.

“It appears that the stronger members of the herd are the ones on the outside, maybe as guards. They’ll be more likely to reciprocate a threat with an attack, but they’re also the easier target.” Lance commented, looking down at Keith who was still looking through the binoculars.

“That does make sense. Explains why they’re not grazing like the rest of the herd; they’re only pretending.” A few thoughtful moments pass as he focused on the ones Lance was speaking of, noting the branched antlers. “Think they’ll team up on a threat? If we wound one, the others might react by ganging up on the attacker.”

Lance looked through his scope again. Humming a bit. he answered, “I don’t think so. At least, not if it’s not an obvious threat. An unseen attack like a gunshot is more likely to scare them than drive them to attack.” Looking back at Keith who had changed his focus to him, he added, “No real way to tell for sure though. That’s just my best guess.”

“That gives me an idea. Stick with the plan for the most part, but I’m going to get closer with a backup distraction just in case.” Keith instructed. He bagged the binoculars and shouldered the pack, already on the move before Lance could even mumble a coherent, “What distraction?!” Though Keith had heard him, he didn’t respond, too focused on preparing his own plan. Lance groaned. “Geeze, Keith. Tell the rest of the group what’s in your head for once,” he mumbled under his breath.

After watching Keith disappear into the bulwark of the ridiculously tall grass like before, he studied his surroundings with a thoughtful eye, coming to the conclusion that he could probably get a tad closer before setting up his shot. As if to thwart the paladins, the rain became thicker. Tiny streams of water ran steady down the sides of his horse half and dripped from his soggy bangs. The vegetation he stepped on didn’t bounce back so easily. He pressed on. In case of reciprocation, he needed to find a makeshift hide. But other than the grass, there was nothing big enough or tall enough. And he would have to kneel on the ground, elbows included, to be completely hidden by it. Well, it would have to be good enough.

The radio in his ear hissed and scratched. “Lance, I’m in position. Do you have a shot?”

He was not expecting Keith to contact him. “Just a tic. I have one picked out but I need to take cover first, just to be safe.” As he spoke he moved into a large patch of it, hunkering down and taking aim. His crown could be seen if an observer knew where to look directly but for a passing glance, it was pretty well hidden. Sighting the beast on the rightmost side of a group of four standing in close proximity to each other, he whispered, “I have the shot.”

“Go!”

He pulled the trigger.

The beast went down with a cry, startling the other three as well as the whole of the herd. Before there was even a chance that the other three could run after Lance, a flash of brilliant, blinding light lit up in front of them, scaring them off into different directions that were most importantly away from Lance and most likely Keith. Lance shielded his eyes with his arm, squinting. “Ya know Keith, it would have been nice to know that you intended to use flash grenades. What made you even think to pack those?”

Keith didn’t respond.

Either he turned the receiver off or he didn’t feel there was a need to answer the question hanging in the air.

Eyeing the beast, Lance felt confident that he had immobilized it when it didn’t struggle to get back up. He rose to his feet and headed for it, looking around for where Keith might be. “Keith?”

“LANCE RUN!” Keith suddenly shouted. The split second he used went to realizing that Keith’s voice came not from the radio but from the field instead of realizing that the beast he had shot was on its feet and racing towards him, head lowered, antlers ready to run him through. “OH QUIZNACK!!!”

He backpedaled, unfamiliar with the move on four legs, and lost valuable time regaining his balance, leaving him with only spare moments to raise his formed bayard to defend himself from the incoming antlers of the raging beast. The brute force of the attack caused him to skid backwards, dragging track lines in the mud. The antlers locked with the rifle and Lance struggled to keep them away from his torso. But his four legs were no match for the beast’s six and he continued to slide backwards, his back end shrinking to the ground to try and gain traction.

The beast jerked its head sideways, catching Lance off guard and forcing his arms in the same direction. It used this opening to lash out with a foreleg, catching Lance below the waist, knocking one of his forelegs from underneath him, throwing him violently to the ground. It’s antlers broke free from the rifle as Lance hurried to get to his feet, slipping in the mud, attention divided between coordinating his legs and following the beast’s head. He only had time to roll out of the way of four hooves intend on crushing his torso into the ground, a feat not easy when unfamiliar with four legs.

He was able to push his torso upright just in time to deflect the four hooves with his rifle, the movement sending a shock up one of his arms. He didn’t have time to even gasp before the beast was locking antlers with the rifle again. Lance was in a poor position to try and push back and though he vehemently tried, he found himself being forced to lean backwards to an almost painful angle before the beast jerked its head again, ripping the bayard out of his hands entirely, sending it off to the side way out of his reach. “Quiznack,” Lance cursed, eyes wide with horror as the beast reared up, striking the air above him with four hooves in anticipation of stomping him flat. He raised his arms in a cross above him, eyes closed, in a feeble attempt to block the attack, holding his breath when he heard his name shouted. “LANCE!!!”

He peeked through his lids, catching a faint something flying towards the beast’s head, above and past the antlers. That something fell from the sky and he could see that it was attached to a line which was swinging around the antler by force of momentum. This he took in within milliseconds before the beast’s head was violently jerked to the side, forcing its entire body away from him. It fell to the ground, unable to keep its balance on just its two back legs when being pulled to the side.

A red blur threw itself over the back and neck of the beast, grabbing for the antlers. As it quickly got back to its feet, Lance watched, stunned, as Keith grappled with it while it bucked and swung its neck in angry attempts to dislodge him. He lost grip with one hand and swung under the neck, grabbing hold with his free arm and pulling in close. Letting go of the antlers, Keith secured himself to the beast’s neck, focusing on not being thrown free while wrapping his long tail around its trunk; it had been so focused on flinging its neck around that it didn’t notice Keith’s tail before it was too late. And when that realization occurred, its violent bucking went up a few notches. It turned circles, bucking backwards, forwards, to the side. Keith held on tighter, cinching his muscles and coiling smaller and smaller around its trunk. In a final attempt to dislodge him it dropped onto its side, crushing Keith enough to make him cry out but not enough to make him lose his hold. Keith squeezed tighter with his tail, with his arms, with his whole body, both feeling and hearing the air struggle through its mouth. It was as if time chose to drag its heels as Keith strained. When the moment happened, no one knew. Keith only realized the beast had stopped breathing and moving when his strength gave out and he released his grip around the neck.

He fell away from its neck, back on the ground, arms to the sides, eyes closed against the rain, breathing heavily. He could hear hooves approaching but still didn’t open his eyes. Only when he didn’t feel the rain pelting his face did he deign to open them, seeing Lance’s face blocking the sky.

“Quiznack, Keith. You are nuts, you must realize that now,” was all Lance would say.

“I’m glad to see you’re okay,” Keith answered, sighing.

“Are you?”

“I’m having a hard time feeling my tail.” Keith scoffed.

“Well, it is pinned between a heavy alien and a hard place.”

“Shut up and help me, will you.”

Lance chuckled, moving out of Keith’s sight. He closed his eyes again, listening to the grunts Lance was making as he positioned himself next to the deadweight beast and lifted up. Keith felt the weight on the furthest end of his tail, the length closest to the back of the beast, lighten. Quickly he uncoiled it and moved it to the side. When Lance lowered that end again, Keith felt a sudden wave of panic as the middle of his tail felt the extra weight pinning it down. He sat up and started shoving at the neck, not really making any progress because he had no leverage.

“Easy, easy Keith. Calm down. I’ve got it,” Lance hurried, lifting the front end up enough for Keith to pull his tail and himself free. Finally out from underneath it, Keith just lay on his back, tail bunched up, relieved and exhausted. “Thanks.”

As he rested, Lance took note that the thing that had wrapped around the beast’s antlers was Keith’s knife tied to a length of Altean chain. Shaking his head, he made short work of disentangling it and returning the knife to Keith. “I would think you’d take better care of this, being its super important to you.” He placed it on Keith’s open chest.

Keith grasped it with a tired hand. “I knew it wouldn’t go very far and I would get it back, so I wasn’t worried.”

Lance made a noise that was something of a snort, something of a chuckle, and something of a scoff of disbelief. “If you say so.” He smiled at Keith as he continued to lay in the mud. It didn’t last though as curiosity had him looking the beast over for the blast wound he knew he inflicted because the beast had fallen before it attacked him. He aimed and shot the scapula, but there was no indication of any sort of a wound that would drop the beast. “What the? Where…?”

“That’s not the one you shot,” Keith explained, propping himself up on his elbows, knife on his belly. “There was one that didn’t get chased off by the grenade and when it saw you dumbly approaching its fallen herd member, it attacked.”

Lance looked from the body to Keith then back to the body. A few seconds passed before he shook his head. “I thought I was in the clear.”

“I didn’t see it either until it was almost too late.”

“So the other one?”

Keith indicated with a flip of his head the direction behind them. “Still on the ground last I saw. Maybe still there.”

Lance twisted from his torso to look, scanning for a few moments and then spotting it lying on the ground. From their distance he couldn’t tell if it was still breathing or not. “Well, can’t let it suffer.” He made quick work of retrieving his bayard and cautiously, ever vigilant, approaching the second fallen alien beast. It was still breathing, poor thing. And there, through the shoulder blade of the foremost legs, was the wound he was expecting to see. “I’m sorry,” he spoke quietly, his bayard transforming as he lifted it, plugging a shot into the beast’s head to end the deed.

Keith was upright and coiled about himself when Lance returned. “Well, we’ve got two zebra things and a not-pig. I think we did pretty good for the day. But now our final dilemma is, how are we getting these back to the castle?”

“Call for a pickup?” Keith suggested, his tone of voice meaning it as a joke.

Lance laughed good naturedly. “About all we can do. Didn’t quite think this through, did we.”

Keith gave a chuckle sigh. “No. Not one of our brighter moments, that’s for sure.” He rose to full height. “I’ll get the capybara. See if you can drag that other zebra thing closer to this one. Then we’ll call Coran to see if he can send a speeder with a trailer or something.” The rain chose then to stop falling. Lance looked Keith over as he slithered away, noting how covered in mud and debris the paladin was. He then looked to himself, noting that he was in just as bad of a state. “I am so ready for a bath after this.”

It took fifteen to twenty minutes or so to collect their catches and belongings into one spot. Lance hailed Coran for a pickup. The mustached Altean congratulated them on their success and stated that he would come for them himself, adding that it would take about a half hour to put together a setup that would handle their load and probably another forty-five minutes to reach them.

Dusk was falling quickly, Lance realized after he cut his transmission with Coran, and so was the temperature. He untied his jacket from his waist and slipped it on, mourning at how covered in mud it was. It wasn’t too much of a difference but it made him feel better. Keith then entered his thoughts. Said paladin had made a tight coil of himself and was shivering. Lance shook his head in disbelief. “Keith, did you pack those thermal blankets like Coran suggested?”

Keith nodded, realizing that he should probably get one out and use it instead of shivering in the cold in a wet jacket. But Lance beat him to the pack and quickly fished them out. He then came closer to Keith, spreading one blanket onto the ground next to him and laying on top of it, and then throwing one unfolded blanket over his horse half. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to come over here and lay your tail on my back and sit yourself in front of me.” Keith was about to protest and demand that he would be fine on his own with his own blanket but Lance immediately saw this and interrupted, “Ah ah! Not the time to be shy. This worked the first time.”

“But I had no say that time!” Keith countered.

“And you have so say this time either. Now come here or so help me I will sit on you and that won’t be comfortable for either of us.” Using his arm, he lifted the side so Keith could get his tail under it. Knowing he was delaying the inevitable, Keith uncoiled and positioned himself so that most of his tail was laying across Lance’s second back and his top half was sitting in front of Lance’s front legs. The centaur covered his tail and then with a third blanket, wrapped himself and Keith up. Almost immediately Keith could feel the warmth seeping in as his back was pressed up against Lance’s front.

“Listen, I want you to know something,” Lance began, looking off at the dusk building on the horizon. He had paused for Keith to say something but when he didn’t continued anyway. “We don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck like this and it’s obvious you’re going to have some tough times keeping warm, especially when we’re in space. So, I want you to come to me whenever you’re feeling cold. I don’t mind keeping you warm. In fact, I appreciate the small opportunity to be of some help to you, even as a space heater.”

Keith was quiet for several minutes, going over Lance’s selfless offer. He was quiet for so long that Lance was sure Keith would say no. “Okay. But, tone the jabs and rivalry down.”

Lance grinned widely. “Sure thing.” The sounds of night life gradually grew in volume. Familiar chirps from insect life made Keith even more drowsy. Lance noticed, feeling Keith’s head nod and jerk as the paladin struggled to stay awake. “Rest. I’ll keep watch for Coran.”

“I’m fine,” Keith slurred. He was dosing two minutes later, his breath even and quiet. Lance could feel Keith’s tail twitch occasionally underneath the blanket. He couldn’t help the grin on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You readers amaze me.  
> I seriously was not expecting so many hits, so many kudos, and even bookmarks! I wasn't expecting any bookmarks and figured this would be a passing read that interested readers would see on the front page or something and remember that yeah, I read this, when it updated and appeared on the front page again.  
> I am truly humbled. And grateful.  
> And those feelings gave me the motivation to finish this scene as soon as possible.  
> As always, constructive criticism is appreciated.  
> This chapter is not beta read. I gave it a few read overs to check fluidity and for errors but it is highly possible that errors remain or something doesn't make sense. Please point them out to me if you spot any.
> 
> TL;DR  
> Lance and Keith debate over whether the alien creature Lance killed is a pig or not.  
> They learn that it might be poisonous but decide to keep it and let Hunk make the final call.  
> Lance needs a toilet break.  
> They find the herd, come up with a plan.  
> Plans never go as they're supposed to. Lance gets attacked by a different alien zebra than the one he shoots. He gets knocked to the ground and just before he gets turned into mud Keith comes to the rescue, wrestling with the zebra and suffocating it by wrapping himself around its neck and trunk. They end up with two kills, three in total counting the not-pig.  
> The rain stops. Dusk begins to fall. Keith gets cold. Lance convinces Keith to let him be Keith's 'space heater' whenever Keith needs to get warm as they huddle. Keith falls asleep while Lance waits for Coran to pick them and their haul up.


	4. Adventures in bathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where does one go to clean up when they're the size of a horse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will happen sporadically. 
> 
> This chapter is not betaed and may have some typos and other such errors. If you see one, please point it out to me.
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

Coran arrived in what appeared to be a bigger version of the speeders that the paladins drove to their lions, only this one had two passenger seats behind the pilot seat and was mainly white with silver accents. Hitched to that was a large flatbed trailer. Lance could only imagine what purpose the vehicle served back in the day. “Hi, Coran. Am I happy to see your face.” He didn’t move, not wanting to disturb his sleeping teammate.

“Always good to see you well, Number 3,” Coran responded, climbing out of the speeder. Approaching them, he took stock of the situation; two paladins bundled up in emergency blankets, two large beasts that were slightly bigger than Lance plus a smaller creature and the dusk quickly turning into night. Twisting the edge of his mustache, Lance could see the gears turning in his head.

“Something wrong, Coran?” Lance asked.

Keith stirred, eyes peeking open. “Coran’s here?”

“I may have miscalculated the amount of space we need to get us and your haul back to the castle in one trip. Keith could fit in the back of the speeder but Lance, you would have to ride on the trailer and that would be a tight fit.”

“How far is it to the castle ship?” Lance asked, releasing Keith so he could move away, his intent being to study the transport setup. Lance got to his hooves, leaving the blanket on his second back while shifting the one on his torso to rest on his shoulders.

“Approximately 140 kilometers. Accounting for the weight drag, it’ll take probably over a varga to get back.”

Lance wrapped his finger around his chin in thought, supporting the arm at the elbow with his other arm folded across his waist. “I could run. Provided we take two to three dobash walking breaks every ten or twelve, I think I’ll be fine.”

Keith was the one to voice the question first. “Are you sure you could handle that?”

“It’s running, not sprinting. And I’m giving conservative estimates. The Garrison had us in training for long distance running so this shouldn’t be any different.” Lance waved his hand dismissively.

Keith was about to protest and then thought better of it. If Lance said he could, then he most likely could. Plus, he had been resting just as much as himself while waiting for Coran, so he’s likely good as new. So instead of saying anything, he just nodded, moving close enough to take the blanket off Lance’s horse half and began folding it.

“Let’s give it a go then. First, get everything loaded.” Coran clapped his hands in front of himself, ready for the task at hand. Being that Lance was much taller than the Altean, Keith offered to help load the alien zebras. It was slow going but, they managed. Lance at least loaded the alien pig capybara thing. Once in place, Coran pushed a few buttons at the hitch causing a blue glowing cargo net to manifest over the trailer, securing the load. Keith grabbed the pack and the blankets, which weren’t as compact as they had been prior to use and so would not fit back in the pack, and awkwardly climbed into the back of the speeder. The most comfortable way he could position himself was to make an elongated coil with his tail so that it rested across both seats, leaving him to prop his torso up against the back. Forget seatbelts, he was just too big. The bag and blankets rested where his feet would have been. “All set, Number 4?” Coran asked as he slipped into the driver’s seat.

“As well as ever. No sudden moves and I should be fine.” Keith answered, laying his arms along the top of the seats, his thoughts being he was attempting to stabilize himself from sliding back and forth.

“How about you, Number 3?”

Lance had kept one of the blankets, which he promptly wrapped around Keith. “Now I’m ready. Let’s go before something nasty decides to show up.” Keith tried to remove the blanket but was stopped. “Dude, you'll fall asleep from the wind chill. Keep it on.”

“Right,” Keith mumbled, moving the blanket so it was wrapped around his back so he could hold it closed in the front.

Coran nodded and started the engine, making a wide U-turn before lining up alongside Lance. The centaur nodded and started to run, his elbows bent, hands relaxed, Coran matching his speed. After two breaks Lance suggested to lengthen the time between them, assuring the two that he would be fine. Neither of them cared about how long it finally took them to reach the castle ship, they were just grateful nothing delayed them.

Standing at the entrance to the large ship elevator pod was Hunk, who’s worried expression quickly changed when he could see them coming by the glow from the orb underneath the speeder and headlight. When they were all in earshot he hollered, “You guys had me worried, especially when Coran said he had to go and get you. I thought one of you had gotten seriously hurt.”

Panting, leaning over slightly and supporting himself with his hands on the tops of his front legs, Lance grinned apologetically. “Sorry big guy. We just got more than we could carry.” He side glanced at Coran, “Though I don’t know why he neglected to tell you the details.”

Coran had the decency to look apologetic as they moved inside the elevator. “Apologies Number 2, I was in a bit of a rush. How is Number 1?”

“I hope by now he’s sleeping.”

“Wait! What happened to Shiro?” Keith immediately worried. Hunk made the gesture to calm down. “Nothing serious. I’ll explain after we get inside. And after you two have had a bath and something to eat.”

“A bath does sound like a wonderful thing. But, the ones in our rooms are much too small for me currently. Is there something else available, Coran? Like a bigger shower for bigger paladins?” Lance asked, staggering to regain his balance when the elevator moved. Keith immediately slithered out of the speeder; it was not the most comfortable ride. He discarded the blanket onto the empty seats.

Coran shook his head. “Sorry, Number 3. The only thing we have currently working is the decontamination chamber.” He was about to say more when the centaur interrupted him. “I would rather be hosed down outside then go through that whole process!”

“No need to fret, it can be adjusted to work like a community shower. No need to go through each stage when it’s unnecessary.” Coran smiled, his hands behind his back though he was still seated. Lance calmed down a bit. He then raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you said currently working. You mean to tell me that there are bigger bathing rooms available?”

Coran twisted his mustache, “Yes. They’ll need some cleaning up and maintenance because they haven’t been used in over 10,000 years. Afterwards they should be quite comfortable and accommodating for you.” Under no circumstances was he going to let the boy into Allura’s private bathing room.

Lance smiled. “Should have thought of that sooner. Oh well, I’ll put up with washing off in decontamination. Hunk, help a buddy out? I can’t reach everywhere.”

Keith raised an eyebrow, a little pout on his lips. “Wait. What have you been doing before? When I said you smelled like body wash, that was strong enough to be recent, as in after we transformed.”

Lance responded with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his head. “I’ve only been washing my top half sponge bath style. And since I can’t fit all of me into the bathroom, I’ve had to use the sink. Being this tall and trying to wash your hair in the sink is not easy.”

“And you didn’t think to ask about bathing accommodations after the first time?” Hunk asked, dumbfounded by his friend.

“I figured I could ask later when everyone had some time to adjust,” Lance explained as the elevator docked and they exited into a large hangar that branched into five directions.

“I’ll leave you three to clean up. See you at dinner,” Coran stated, driving the speeder and cargo in one direction. Hunk placed a hand on Lance’s second shoulder, just under his waist and above his foreleg. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Much appreciate, Hunk.”

“I’m coming with you,” Keith piped up. At Lance’s unspoken question he quickly added, “I can’t fit in the regular showers either.”

Lance shrugged. “Not like my everything hasn’t already been seen.”

“I didn’t know you were shy about public bathing, Lance. Didn’t you bathe with your family.” Hunk asked as they walked.

“When I was a little kid, yes. And family is one thing, strangers are completely different,” Lance countered.

“Well, we’re kind of a family now, aren’t we?”

“I’m not a kid anymore, Hunk.”

“Then why are you asking me to help and not Keith?”

Lance looked at Keith when he answered, “No offense Keith, but I don’t know you that well.”

“None taken.”

Looking at Hunk, Lance continued, “And you and I have been roommates since we entered the Garrison. So I’m more comfortable with you helping.”

Hunk chuckled. “Alright. Let me go grab some towels and stuff, and I’ll meet you there. Think you can get down there without falling?”

“Without falling, yes. Slipping is another thing entirely.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in fifteen or so.” Hunk patted his friend’s side and jogged off. The silence was somewhat awkward, or at least Lance thought so. And then Keith spoke up. “Look, if you’re that self conscious, I’ll stay on the other side of the room and won’t even look in your direction. I’ve got a lot of me to clean up too so I’ll be pretty occupied.”

“No, it’s… It’s fine. You can look.”

“I don’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable, Lance.” Keith looked seriously at Lance as if to burn the sincerity of his words into the boy’s soul. “Though I am confused as to why, when hours ago I was in your personal space so you could keep me warm.”

“Cuddling is different than having someone wash your back for you. It requires a different level of trust.” Lance folded his arms.

“There are different levels of trust?” Keith’s eyebrow was up again.

“Yeah,” Lance began to tap his fingers as he listed. “The level of trust to not blow a secret; the level of trust for someone to have your back; the level of trust to confide in; the level of trust that’s in families; the level of trust between siblings; stuff like that. So the level of trust I have for you is for a teammate who has my back. My level of trust for Hunk is the one like what’s between brothers.”

“Aren’t you confusing trust with respect? Or comfort even?” Keith wondered.

“You can have respect for someone but, trust them as far as you can throw them. Case in point; Iverson,” Lance gestured with his hand above his head, emphasizing that the two were completely different. Folding his arms again he added with a nod, looking at Keith, “And you have to have trust in someone to be comfortable around them, don’t you?”

“I see; I don’t have much respect for Iverson either, not after what he said about Shiro,” Keith rubbed the back of his neck, thinking, while focusing on the path in front of him. “Still, are you sure you’re fine with me looking?”

“Yeah. It’s not like you haven’t seen me without a shirt on before. We did try to use the pool at the same time.” Lance chuckled at the memory.

Keith smiled, quoting, “Stupid Altean pools.”

When they reached the massive doors to the decontamination chamber, they were at a loss for what to do next. Keith peeled his gloves off and palmed the panel on the righthand side to open the doors, instructing Lance, “Hand me your radio. I’ll store them in my pouch until we can return them to Allura or Coran.” Keith pulled his out of his ear, relieved to have the bothersome thing removed. He rubbed at it with the heel of his hand to sooth away the irritation. He had expected the doors to open while he stashed the radios and his gloves yet, for some reason they remained closed. He palmed the panel again, noting this time that there was no affirmation beep. Confused, he stared at his palm. Nothing seemed amiss; there were scales on the back of his hand and fingers so that shouldn’t be causing a problem; his fingerprints were still there. What could the issue be?

While he mused, Lance reached over and palmed the door himself. However, the doors did not open for him either. “Okaaaayyyy,” he drawled. “Do we have to find some other place to wash off?” Out of dumb curiosity, Lance stepped closer and palmed the panel with his left hand. No response. “Well, worth a shot.”

“Maybe Hunk will know what to do when he gets here,” Keith suggested, folding his arms and maneuvering to lean up against the doors to wait. Lance studied him, wondering how he wasn’t sliding down the wall since the guy was mostly tail. Keith caught him staring. “What?” Up went his eyebrow.

“De nada. Just wondering how you’re not sliding down the wall,” Lance explained simply, shrugging as if it were obvious.

“Oh,” Keith resumed staring into the distance. A few moments later a furrow messed up his brow.

Lance noticed this too. “Sooo, what are you thinking about?” He scuffed a front hoof, hands behind his waist.

“Shiro,” Keith sighed, looking down.

“If something were seriously wrong with him, Hunk would have said so. Relax, don’t worry so much.” He swooshed his tail, trying to take his own advice. What was keeping Hunk? 

Neither could measure the amount of time it took for Hunk to rendezvous with them but, when Lance could hear heavy footsteps he couldn’t stop himself from cupping his hands around his mouth and asking, “What kept you?” Keith moved off and away from the doors.

“Sorry, sorry. I brought more stuff than I can carry and ran into Allura. Took a few doboshes to explain to her what’s happening and she offered to help me bring stuff down. Also it so happens that only she and Coran can open the room. Kind of slipped their minds to program us in for access,” Hunk explained in a loud voice that carried down the hallway. Lance hung his head; why didn’t he think of that? Once in sight, Hunk held up his arms, loaded with linens. “I brought towels, rags and bathrobes figuring you don’t want to go through the rest of the castle even more naked than now.”

“Aw Hunk, you’re so thoughtful! I’d hug you right now but, well, it’s obvious.”

Allura stepped up, holding a couple cleaning buckets filled with soaps and shampoos, loofahs and sponges, and a couple of bristle brushes. “I’m sorry we didn’t think of this sooner. Coran and I will work on getting at least one of the larger bathing rooms available tomorrow.” She set down a bucket and palmed the panel. There was a satisfying beep followed by the swooshing of opening doors. Retrieving the bucket, she took the lead and the others followed her in.

Inside was still as dauntingly expansive as the first time they were in the room. Lance took the opportunity to study what was in the room since presently he wasn’t been battered by large amounts of water jettisoning out of the walls; the perforated shower heads, the nozzles of the jets, the flaps of sealed air vents, and the drains on the slick floor that his hooves clicked on. The room was big enough to park four hatchbacks, two by two, and maybe big enough to stack two as well. Allura walked up to one of the adjacent walls, setting the buckets down and opening a hidden panel to reveal a control screen. She waved Hunk over. “This is the code to get the water running. I’ll set it for ten doboshes so you can rinse off. After you’re both done lathering up, enter the code again to repeat the process. Don’t worry about the other stages of decontamination, that sequence requires another code entirely.” Hunk nodded his comprehension when she finished. Allura smiled at the three of them. “If you would rinse your clothes off while you’re at it, they’ll be laundered and returned to your rooms by morning.”

“Thanks, Allura,” Keith responded.

Dusting the front of her dress, she left the room. Hunk studied where the jets and shower heads were located on the wall opposite the doors as well as the ceiling and moved away to put the linens out of their reach.

Lance grabbed a bucket before moving underneath one of the shower heads on the wall adjacent from the control screen. Keith grabbed the other bucket and picked one a comfortable distance away. It wasn’t on the opposing side of the room, instead being on the other side of the same wall; he figured that the code Allura typed in would only activate one side of the room. Undaunted, he shrugged off his jacket and dropped it in front of him, pausing a moment after removing his belt. After some observations and calculations, he placed it safely away from the reach of his selected shower head. Finally, off went his shirt. He heard Lance hiss sympathetically. “What?” He looked in Lance’s direction to catch him shrugging out of his jacket.

“That’s from the Trials of Marmora, isn’t it?” he asked, gesturing with his head at the noticeable discolored scar across Keith’s right shoulder. Keith raised an eyebrow before remembering that no one had seen the wound aside from Shiro and he hasn’t been around the others shirtless since. So of course Lance hadn’t seen the scar.

“Yeah,” he simply answered, relaxing his brow, lowering himself to the ground and turning his attention to pulling the items out of the bucket and positioning them at arm’s reach.

“You never told us what happened during those trials,” Lance commented, pulling off his shirt. He dropped it on top of his jacket, before settling down with his legs underneath him, taking stock of what was in his bucket.

“And I don’t want to talk about it.” The answer was succinct and left no room for protest.

Hunk provided a new topic though by gleefully asking, “Is that a mane?”

Lance sighed, not even looking at his friend as he approached with grabby hands. “Yes, Hunk. I have a mane.”

“Does it make wearing clothes uncomfortable?” Hunk’s thick fingers were close to stroking it, ever curious. Lance couldn’t say no and leaned towards him, a visual permission to touch it. Gently, respectively, Hunk stroked the mane a few times, noting its rough, dry texture; noting the same chestnut shade that matched the rest of Lance; noting how it ran from the base of Lance’s skull to just between the blades of his front horse legs; noting how the length of it was almost as long as his forearm.

Lance shuddered involuntarily, a chill going up his spine. “It’s more of a nuisance than uncomfortable. For the most part I can ignore it. It’s like wearing a hat almost, except it’s just the center of my back that feels the extra friction.” Having had enough of Hunk’s stroking, he pulled away and asked, “Would you turn the water on now? I’d like to wash this mud off while there's still time before dinner.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry.” Pulling his hand away he returned to the screen. “Don’t worry, I’ll be your mane man. You’ll be nice and clean in no time.”

“Huuunnnnk!” Lance groaned, letting his head lean back in exasperation. “Did you have to?”

“Oh cut me some slack for being a bit of a troll,” Hunk replied with a stoic face that busted into a wide grin when Lance hid his face with both hands, elbows high in the air, groaning fervently. Laughing, Hunk activated the code.

Keith chuckled quietly. He had coiled about himself thinking that he could wash up faster with more of his tail in reach than inching along its length as he moved it in front of his torso. If looked at from above, he would look similar to a giant lollipop with his torso sticking up from the center. His back towards the wall, he looked over his shoulder upon hearing the sound of pumps activating. He expected the force of the water coming from it, what he did not expect was how cold it was. He lunged to the side, out from underneath the spray of water, gasping loudly and deeply with a cry of alarm.

“Sorry, SORRY!” Hunk apologized, rushing to turn the water off.

Lance sputtered. He had had his back facing the shower head too, and reacted by attempting to jump to his feet. Instead of succeeding he slipped and fell onto his side, deciding immediately to roll, and was pushing his torso up off the cold floor. “Do Alteans not believe in hot water?”

Keith slithered away from the dripping shower head, hugging himself against the cold. He could feel his temperature dropping slightly, his muscles seizing up and trembling from the shock. “Hot water is more likely to make something worse when trying to clean an unknown substance. The setting by default must be on cold,” He answered, shivering.

Hunk madly scanned the screen, trying to interpret the Altean writing and diagrams. Pushing a button that he guessed was a main menu, he got to a screen that had four thermometers on it, each giving a 22.78° Celsius reading. Quickly studying the screen, he used his finger and dragged the line from that reading up to 35°. Backing out of that setting he retraced to the command screen and entered the code Allura had showed him. There was rumbling for a few seconds before hot water began to flow. Both Keith and Lance, who had managed to move away, were hesitant to get under it but, both braved the uncertainty and stuck a hand into the stream. “That’s better,” Lance approved, getting himself in order and sitting under the spray. Keith settled for filling the bucket and dumping it on himself rather than getting under the shower head again, even if it meant that his initial pancake spread plan was nullified.

“Hunk, you said you brought rags? Would you hand me one, please,” Keith asked, setting his bucket underneath the spray to fill up before the water shut off as he pushed his dripping hair out of his face.

“Sure thing, Keith.”

“Me too while you're over there,” Lance requested, squirting a blob of soap onto a loofah. As he lathered up, the water stopped. Hunk handed Keith a wash cloth which was promptly dunked into the bucket and wrung out so he could wash his face. Lance grimaced but said nothing.

“Where would you like me to start washing,” Hunk asked Lance.

“Wherever on my horse half, buddy. Just leave my tail for last.”

Hunk rolled up his sleeves, grabbed a sponge and started to work some shampoo into it, building up a lather. “Just so you know, I don't know how to bathe a horse. So let me know if I'm doing something wrong.” Lather built, he started wiping the sponge down his friend’s trunk, having enough common sense to go with the grain of the fur. Lance for the most part was able to twist and get a bit of his second back with the loofah, frowning at how wrong it felt. He tossed that idea out by dropping the loofah and reaching for the wash cloth which he got wet and built up a lather with soap. Still sitting with his back end on the floor, he carefully stood on his front legs and wiped them down with the rag. Finding that feeling more pleasant, he twisted again to work on that same area on his second back.

Curious about how Keith was faring, he looked over to see the naga using a sponge and plain water to clean his tail. “What, no soap?”

“I don't need soap.”

“You're only doing half a job if you don't use soap.”

“I’m not putting soap or suds on my scales, Lance. I don’t need to. Wiping them clean with this sponge is ample.”

“Stand up so I can get under you,” Hunk instructed. Lance complied, slipping a bit on the wet surface. “Are you some sort of redneck who is too good for soap?” Lance jabbed.

“Have you ever heard of someone bathing their pet reptile with soap?” Keith asked impatiently. Before Lance could respond, Keith answered for him, “No? It's because soap is toxic to reptiles!” He hissed angrily, tongue flicking rapidly.

Lance stood there for several minutes, mouth opening a few times but no words went forth. Only when Hunk had finished with washing his trunk did he manage an “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed.”

“It's fine,” the naga mumbled, not looking at him. He filled the sponge with water and squeezed it over his hair, rewetting it in preparation for shampoo. Lance made no comment. Instead he grabbed his own bottle of shampoo and squirted a blob into his hand, working it into his hair and as much of his mane as he could manage. Hunk took some and worked it into Lance's tail, finishing the section of his mane that was out of reach. “Alright. You're good considering this end, ready for a rinse?” Hunk asked, rinsing his hands in the bucket. Hearing splashing water, both turned to see that Keith was leaning over slightly and had emptied his bucket over his head, rinsing it of most of the suds. Rather than make a comment, Lance nodded. “Keith, you ready?” 

“I'm good,” he answered, wringing out his hair. Before Hunk could turn the water back on, Keith had everything back in the bucket and was moving to the other side of the room where the towels and robes were. The centaur flung his arms up, done with trying to understand Keith's bathing practices. Hunk saw this and tried consoling his friend. “Don't fret so much, Lance. You've got a lot more hair and fur than he does. He also probably doesn't produce oils and sweat, except maybe in his hair. Leave him be.” He turned on the water.

The centaur sat down under the spray and used the bucket to speed up the process of rinsing the suds off. When the water stopped he stood, dripping. “I hope you brought enough towels, Hunk,” he said, pressing against his hair and mane to rid himself of as much excess water as possible. Stepping away from the water, he saw Keith waiting near the corner where the linens were, wrapped up in a white robe and toweling his hair dry with a white towel. Hunk met him halfway, handing him one of two white towels he was carrying. Lance immediately went to work drying his top half. Hunk paused though. “Try shaking the water off,” he suggested.

Towel on his head, Lance looked at him for a moment, then stared at his lower half behind him. Furrowing his brow, he replied, “I have no idea how to do that.” He paused for a moment, pondering, “Can horses even do that?”

“I don’t see why they couldn’t.”

Lance stared behind him, trying his hardest to shake like a dog would to rid its fur of the water. All he was able to do was flex some different muscles and flick his tail. Pulling the towel off his head he grumbled, “Nope, not happening.” Gathering the towel up at either end, he pulled it taut and across his back in attempts to dry his mane. Hunk pressed against Lance’s trunk with his hands, forcing the water from the fur and then squeezed the water from his tail before going at him with the towel. Keith slithered over with another dry towel. “Mind if I help?”

The conflict of emotions and thoughts that played on Lance’s face happened in the course of milliseconds but Keith caught a bit of it. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. But then Lance surprised him. “You’ve got my back, right?” he asked with a sheepish grin. Keith huffed a light laugh. “Yeah. Which one?” he queried, a soft smile across his face. Lance pulled his towel away from his back, revealing the mess he had made of his mane. “This one works,” he answered, indicating with his thumb. Keith lifted himself up higher than his normal height using the strong muscles in his tail and with the towel in his hands, pressed a section of Lance’s mane, which was close to his horse half, between his palms and rubbed gently, working his way up. When he reached the center of Lance’s human back, Lance quietly said, “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for continuing to read this!  
> I decided to end this chapter at this point because it had reached eleven pages in my word processor, and it seemed like a good point to end at too.
> 
>  
> 
> I have a question for you readers who have made it this far, if you feel so inclined to answer: What could I improve with my writing? As I mentioned, I'm rusty in the fan fiction world and while several of you have been very supportive, I want to improve and make your reading experience that much greater. So if you can think of anything, please speak up about it (in a nice, constructive way preferably).


	5. Adventures in sleeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cleaned up, the paladins gather in the lounge to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not betaed.

After Lance was toweled off to the degree where he was damp and he was in his own robe, they gathered up everything, Keith putting his belt back around his waist, underneath the robe, and left the room. Walking down the hallway to the elevator that would take them up to the level with the paladin quarters, Keith couldn’t keep it in any longer and asked a bit sternly, “What happened to Shiro?”

A bucket in each hand, Hunk could only shrug, smiling gently at Keith in attempts to console the stressed naga. “Nothing serious. He’s just a tired, cranky and hungry dragon.” Hunk could see some of the stress leave Keith’s body. When the elevator dinged that they had reached their floor, Hunk indicated with a nod of his head, “He should be in the lounge, hopefully sleeping. Apparently being in a humanoid form is energy consuming. I would say for Shiro, it’s like flexing a muscle that not accustomed to being used. So the longer it’s flexed, the more stressed it becomes, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah, I get it, Hunk.” Keith relaxed, smiling faintly. “He’s never one to listen to himself when himself is talking. Always worried about everyone else first.”

“So, does that mean…?” Lance trailed as they exited the elevator and proceeded towards their quarters.

“Shiro is in dragon form, in the lounge room, curled up around the couch in a protective manner because the only way we could get him to settle down was to have either Pidge or Allura stay with him. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s been fighting his new instincts for the past three days. The man is in serious need of some Zs.”

“So, he’s got the instinct to protect a princess?” Lance asked, only to solidify the thought than really expecting an answer. “Or if not a princess, then a lady?”

“Apparently so.”

“We need to figure out more about these new instincts and how they can help or hinder as soon as possible,” Keith voiced in a matter-of-fact monotone.

Lance nodded his agreement. “We’ve got two examples already, one of each. Your instincts helped us hunt. While it’s obvious Shiro ignoring his has caused more harm than good.” Reaching the laundry shoot, Keith and Lance dropped their linens and clothes in.

Hunk handed each their respective bucket. “Keep these for future use. I’ll go get you guys some dinner. I suggest getting into something comfortable and going to the lounge to be with Shiro.”

“Alright. See you in the lounge, Hunk,” Keith affirmed, moving off towards his own room. 

“Yeah, later buddy,” Lance answered, waiting until Hunk was nearly out of sight before ducking into his room. Once the door opened he immediately headed for his personal bathroom. The way it was arranged, with the mirror and sink directly in front of the entrance to the small room, he could only fit a smidgen more than half himself inside. Sighing, he set his bucket inside the shower and awkwardly backed up. Taking his robe off and laying it on his bed, he sat down parallel to the side of it, twisting so he could rest his arms on the edge, and on them, rest his cheek. He was going to put off getting dressed to give his mane some time to air dry.

Finding an opportunity, thoughts came to wander in his mind. They took him back to the struggle with the alien zebra and he shuddered to think what would have happened had Keith not risked his life to save him. He was angry with himself for having such poor coordination with his body, even after three days, and a bit jealous of Keith who appeared to slip easily into his element within a matter of hours. He found himself thinking that he should have done better, should have been able to backup at that moment and get out of the way. But he didn’t, and that was bad. So it was imperative that he learn as quickly as possible to be more familiar with his new body and more in tune so he didn’t have to spare a few seconds to think which hoof goes where. He was not going to be a burden to his team, at least not anymore than he already was. So clouded was his mind in that time that the memories of running with a laughing Keith on his back, or catching a fish for his friend to eat, or even holding him close to keep him warm, those thoughts could not find purchase in his mind to comfort his anxious heart and remind him that he was valuable in his own way.

A knock on his door jarred him out of his thoughts. What time was it? He didn’t even know what time it had been when he came in. A second knock grabbed his focus. “Y-yeah?”

“You okay, Lance?”

It was Keith.

“Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?” Lance answered, standing up on at least two legs that were half asleep, causing him to wobble a bit.

“You seemed… not yourself… after washing up.” Keith tried to explain himself.

“Just tired. It’s been an eventful day, you know.”

“Yeah. It has.” There was an awkward silence behind the door and Lance could easily picture Keith studying the floor, trying to find the words to convey his thoughts. Lance used the break to throw on his blue pajama shirt. “Um, do you... would you like me to bring you dinner?”

The door to his room slid open, revealing an awkward Keith, wearing a loose red shirt with a hem that reached to where his thighs would be and long sleeves that were slightly longer than his arms, with his arms folded and eyes on the floor. Lance shook his head. “No need. I’m joining you.” He ducked under the door frame and moved passed Keith. As they both headed towards the dining hall, Lance asked, “How did you know that thing, about soap and reptiles? You were right in that I’ve never heard of someone bathing a lizard with soap but, I don’t think it’s common knowledge the reason why.”

“When I was a kid, I had this foster brother who caught a lizard and didn’t tell his parents. He told me he would break my arm if I ever tattled on him. One day, the lizard got covered in something, I don’t know what, and he decided to give it a bath with a bar of hand soap and a toothbrush. The lizard might have been sick to begin with which would explain why it succumbed so fast but anyway, it died two days later. It wasn’t until years later when I asked a herpetologist visiting my school why he didn’t use soap on his iguanas that I learned about it being toxic.”

“Interesting,” Lance commented, pursing his lips.

They walked in amicable, with a hint of awkward, silence until they reached the doors to the dining hall. And then Lance abruptly ended the calm before they opened. “Listen, I want to say… say that I’m sorry I messed up today. I nearly got you killed because I…”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Keith held up a finger in Lance’s direction, locking gazes with him a second later. “I nearly got myself killed by messing up and lucked out by only getting the wind knocked out of my lungs. So let’s not go and start keeping score.” He lowered his arm and continued, “We’re all still very new to these circumstances and it would be optimal if we had time to spare for some personal readjustment. But we’re in a war and time is not our luxury so it’s a steep learning curve that we’re all being forced to navigate.” He folded his arms. “Don’t dwell on it. You can’t expect to be able to do what you once could with ease so soon after this happened. It’s going to take time to relearn and part of learning is messing up.”

“You think of that on your own?” Lance smirked gently.

Keith smiled softly and looked away, his hair hiding his face slightly. “Shiro may have had some influence in it actually. Not the same words verbatim but the message is. Come on, let’s get dinner.” Relaxing his arms, he glance up at Lance with a slight turn of his head. “You did good today given the circumstances. Remember that.”

The two entered the room and made their way to the kitchen where they caught Hunk finishing up some garnish on two plates set on a serving tray. What was on the plates was lumpy in texture and orange in color. In a bowl that rested between the plates were what appeared to be pink berries. “Hi guys! I thought you’d be in the lounge with Shiro?”

Lance piped up, “Food first. What have you got?” He approached the white counter, laying his palms on the surface and leaning over, not that he needed a better look. What he was after was a whiff, a good strong one that could only be achieved by being almost directly over said steaming plate of food. So while he leaned over, Keith’s tongue flicked in and out rapidly. “Is that… Is that what I think it is?” Keith asked, eyes wide.

“Hunk, buddy. Where did you find eggs!?” Lance leaned over the tray into the troll’s personal space. Hunk shoved him back with a hand on his face. “Shiro found them actually, purely by accident too.”

“Oh this is a story I have to hear,” Lance grinned, folding his arms and leaning back slightly. Keith folded his arms, placed his elbows on the counter and leaned on it, waiting.

Hunk held up his hands in a wait motion, “Okay, okay. It was shortly before it started raining. I was investigating a bush with these cherry things on it when I hear Shiro grunting behind me. Turning around, I find him tracking something on the ground and trying noncommittally to step on it, whether to catch it or to keep it from biting him I still don’t know. He’s oblivious of me because he’s getting more and more intent on stomping this thing without fully committing to it.”

“Wait, what do you mean committing to it?” Lance interrupted.

“By getting down on his hands and knees where he would have a better chance of actually catching it. Anyway, whatever it was finally darted off into the tall grass after trolling him for several minutes. Poor Shiro has totally lost his composure and goes after it, arms swinging. I lose him in the grass and just as I’m about to call after him to see if he’s okay, I hear him cry out in alarm. So I’m on my feet ready to beat down whatever is hurting him when he comes running out of the grass with a flock of angry alien sage grouse the size of dobermans on his heels.”

Lance couldn’t stop himself from snorting and giggling at the imagery. 

“Why didn’t he just chase them off, or catch one?” Keith wondered.

“I think it was a matter of one versus many. And the surprise factor. Or maybe even the idea that he didn’t want to hurt them. Whatever the reason, they chased him around for a bit, squawking and screaming, before he either lost his cool or got himself together and flipped around on his heel, breathing a stream of fire over their heads. This apparently scared the fury out of them because they all high tailed, pun not intended, it out of there. I let Shiro recover for a few minutes before asking him what happened and he answered that he stumbled into their nesting colony not chasing whatever he was chasing.” He had to pause for a few moments to get his giggling back under control. “He was so upset about the whole situation! And then the thunder hit and the rain started to fall. I suggested then that we collect some of their eggs since they’re out. Not all of them and not all from one nest though. He brightened at this idea and so that’s mostly what we brought back.”

“So how many did you bring?” Lance asked eagerly.

“About four dozen. And these eggs were big, like almost the size of a ostrich egg big.”

“Were?” Keith repeated.

Hunk sighed lightly, good heartedly. “When Shiro and I got back, I decided to cook some up for him to eat since, like you, he hasn’t really had anything substantial in three days. It was while I was cooking that we learned it was exhausting Shiro to stay in human form so Pidge insisted that he go to the lounge and shift back. He went, but only after eating half a dozen eggs did he shift back. If you thought he was hungry as a human dragon, that increased majorly when he went full dragon. He didn’t say anything but his stomach sure did. So I cooked up another half dozen before Pidge suggested he just eat them whole. We both silently agreed to let him eat most of the haul and he did without realizing it. I of course saved some for her and for you guys for when you got back. Coran and Allura opted to stick with food goo.”

Keith smiled softly, glad to know that Shiro had had something to eat at least, meager in proportion as it was. “Well, hopefully one of those alien zebra things Lance and I got will satisfy him. Though I think if we go for any more, we need a better plan.” He straightened up as Hunk handed him a pitcher of liquid and a couple empty mugs. He handed Lance a large bowl of fruits before picking up the tray with the plates and cutlery on it. “Come on. Much as I would like to let you guys eat at the table, I think it’s imperative that we get to Shiro as soon as possible.”

“You said that earlier. What do you mean?” Keith asked as they moved.

“That whole protective attitude of his is an amplified instinct as a dragon. So my hunch is, if we’re all together in the same room as him while he’s resting, he’ll relax enough to fall asleep and sleep deeply.”

Nothing more was said as they made their way out of the dining room, down the hall, turned a few corners and found the lounge. Inside was Shiro in his massive black dragon form, curled around the recessed couch like Hunk had said he had been. Sitting on the couch, laptop in her lap, was Pidge. And next to her was Allura. Whatever they were discussing was stopped when Pidge greeted, “Hi guys. Welcome to Shiro’s Nest.”

“Don’t call it that,” murmured a half-asleep Shiro.

“You,” Pidge pointed at his head, “are supposed to be sleeping.”

Shiro lifted his head, one eye locking onto her. “I’ve been trying. I’m too restless.”

“Well, the whole team is here, so cross your talons and hope that you can now,” Hunk announced. He made his way to the small table that was in the center of the recess and placed the tray on its surface. Lance and Keith followed suit with the stuff they were carrying. Lance immediately went to work tossing cushions on the floor to lay on before grabbing a plate and spork and laying down. Keith put off grabbing his plate and getting comfortable in favor of waiting just in front of the spot Shiro had been laying his head. Seeing Keith, Shiro settled back down within Keith’s reach, the naga as tall as his skull, not including the horns. Keith placed his gloved hand on Shiro’s great black snout, anticipating but nonetheless shocked by the cold of it. His glove buffered some of it but he knew that he couldn’t leave his hand there for long. “We’re here Shiro, and we’re not going anywhere. So sleep. You need it.” Keith rubbed the snout encouragingly and received a giant, smokey sigh in response. Seeing Shiro at ease, Keith grabbed his plate and got comfortably on the part of the couch that hadn’t been stripped of its cushions, most of his tail hanging off of it though so there was room enough for Hunk to sit between him and Pidge.

Just as Hunk had himself a seat, Coran came in with a data pad. “Number 2, I’ve got the results of those compatibility scans from the game that Keith and Lance caught today. If you would give them a look over as soon as possible. The smallest of the catch can be broken down overnight and be available by morning if it’s acceptable. The larger ones are going to be a bit trickier.” Rather than him crossing the distance, Hunk met him halfway and immediately started reading through the information.

“Wait, the castle can do that?” Lance asked around his spork. “I thought we would have to enlist the services of someone on another planet.”

Coran twisted his mustache, one arm behind the small of his back. “It’s very rudimentary. For the real fancy stuff yes, you would need the assistance of a skilled butcher.” 

“Hopefully not too rudimentary, Coran. That smaller one has an organ that produces a chemical that could be poisonous to human physiology. If carefully removed, then there’s no risk to contaminating the meat.” Hunk fiddled with the data pad and pointed something out to Coran. The advisor shook his head. “That’s more delicate than the castle is capable of. I can have it put in cryo stasis until we can get a professional though. It’ll delay the decomposition process by a spicolian movement.”

“Is that something we even need to worry about, Hunk. I mean, we’re not human currently,” Lance asked as he finished off his alien eggs.

“We’d have to run a list of metabolic tests to find that out and to do those we’d have to first learn about each of our unique physiologies and metabolisms and quite honestly, there’s not enough time to worry about that.” Hunk had been finger counting as he spoke, tapping each finger with the corner of the data pad. “So I’d rather play with the game plan that what’s dangerous for humans could still potentially be dangerous regardless of what we are.” He emphasized the end of his words by showing one open palm skyward and shrugging.

Lance twirled his spork around his fingers, his hand in the space by the side of his head. “But what about stuff that we don’t know about that could be poisonous to us as we are?”

“Err on the side of caution.” Hunk’s brow was furrowed at the idea. “If I don’t think it’s safe, it’s not coming out of that kitchen, or going into that kitchen in the first place.” He frowned, handing the data pad back to Coran. “Simple as that.”

Keith looked up from his plate, addressing the troll. “I was wondering earlier today when I saw the initial scan results for that alien capybara, why do you know the chemical formula for that antibiotic? That’s not common knowledge.”

Hunk puffed out his chest. “I am a food connoisseur in the making, so I made it my business to know about the nasty history of tainted meats.” Waving his hand up and down to downplay the mood, he continued, “I only really focused on the extremely nasty ones to commit to memory, ones that are carcinogens or transferable hormone additives.”

“That’s still a long list.”

“How do you know?”

“Educated guess.” Keith went back to his plate, signalling end of conversation.

“Anyways, Coran,” Hunk turned to focus on the Altean, “Go ahead and put it in stasis. How long do you estimate the castle will take to process the other two?”

“Hard to say. The creatures have a tough hide on them that is not easily penetrated by sharp instruments. A portion could be available in the morning but the amount is anyone’s guess.”

“We’ll make due then,” Hunk replied.

“Right then. I’ll be off getting that all set up.” Coran brought the data pad to his chest, one arm still behind his back. With a spin on his heel he left the room and Hunk reclaimed his seat. Keith got up to set his empty plate on the tray and pour himself a mug of whatever was in the pitcher, hoping that he could stomach it and not end up giving everything he just ate back; the liquid was clear, like water but it tasted fruity. He shrugged and sat back down. Lance tried to reach the table without getting up and though he was taller and had a greater reach, it could not be done. Giving in, he clambered to his hooves, swapped his empty plate for the bowl of exotic fruits and got comfortable on the cushions again, only this time facing Pidge and Hunk on the couch. “So what progress have you made, Pidge?”

All eight of the snakes on her head had been focused on her laptop screen. At the mention of her name, four of them looked up in his direction. Lance thought to himself, _She’s getting better at controlling them_ , as he popped a slice of blue fruit in his mouth, and instantly puckered at the sharp sour bite of the juice that oozed onto his tongue as he bit down. Pidge smirked at him before answering, “Not much. According to the analyses of the data comparison of both your blood and Shiro’s blood from today versus your first experiences in the healing pods, you’re both still registering as human, or maybe Earthling because there’s practically nothing else from Earth to indicate otherwise. Preliminary searches of the Altean archives in the castle database have yielded nothing in regards to similar sudden transformations with or without known causes. The archives are extremely large though and I’ve started with the most vaguest of boolean search parameters hoping to have at least some results from which to run a second, more specific search through. The initial search is still going.”

Allura, who had been sitting on the other side of Pidge, spoke up. “I’ve postponed reaching out to the Blade of Marmora for just a bit longer. The more data we can gather to provide them with, the greater the chances they might have some helpful information for us.”

“And what of the energy readings the castle captured?” Keith asked, swirling the flavored water in his mug.

“I still haven’t been able to decipher them in the slightest,” she answered, shaking her head.

“What’s our next move,” Hunk asked, arms across the back of the couch.

“I said it before, we need to learn more about ourselves,” Keith answered, downing the rest of his water.

“We can’t possibly learn everything in one day. It’s just not feasible.”

“What if we had some theories to test?” Lance suggested, getting everyone’s attention. He was about to put another slice of fruit in his mouth but paused to elaborate. “What if we tested out characteristics that go along with the myths that we are? For example, it’s a popular belief that dragons are protective and will sometimes have princesses in company for various reasons. It’s proven in Shiro’s case here, at least in part. So, what else do we know about not just dragons, but other myths?” Done talking, he ate the fruit.

“He also breathes fire,” Hunk added.

“But what would our baseline be? Not all dragon myths involve dragons that kidnap princesses and breathe fire. And eastern dragons aren’t typically six limbed. We’re talking about an icon with numerous variable mythical facts that all depend on era as well as region.” Pidge pointed out.

“For now, let’s just start with what we collectively know.” Keith suggested.

“And how about we start tomorrow. Shiro should be included in this and he’s asleep,” Hunk said.

“No, I’m not,” Shiro countered.

“You should be,” Keith scolded.

“I second the vote for starting tomorrow,” Lance chimed in, bowl of fruit empty. “And I’m calling it now; we’re camping out!”

“Not outside, it’s wet and more importantly we don’t know what sort of creatures come out at night,” Allura objected.

“No no, Lance means sleepover, right here, in this spot. We’re still trying to help Shiro sleep so minus well do a sleepover,” Hunk explained. At the confused expression on the princess’ face he went on, “A sleepover is when a group of friends get together with either sleeping bags or blankets and sleep in the same area or room for the night.”

Lance got to his hooves, setting the empty bowl on the table. “Time to round up some blankets!”

Keith rose and stacked stuff on the tray. “I’ll take this back to the kitchen and come back with some pillows.”

“Hold up, Keith,” Hunk said, raising a hand to stall Keith. “Leave the water here. Allura, would you help me move the table?”

“Of course, Hunk.” In a few minutes they moved the table out of the recess up against the wall. Keith promptly left the pitcher of water and the two mugs on it before leaving with Hunk’s instruction to bring back four more mugs. Pidge relinquished her seat on the couch so Hunk could snag the rest of the cushions for the nest he and Lance planned on building. “Will you be joining, Allura?”

Allura looked apologetic. “Not this time I think, Pidge.” Looking towards Shiro she continued, “I hope that my absence in this activity doesn’t cause you hardship, Shiro.”

“Don’t concern yourself, princess. I’ll be fine,” he assured her. Lance appeared after that moment, a couple white pillows in his arms and at least five thick gray comforters draped on his second back. “Score!”

“Nice find!” Hunk approved, thumbs up. Keith returned with the mugs, quietly setting them on the table before leaving again for pillows. Shiro watched Lance and Hunk work on their nest, laying out the thick comforters inside the recessed floor with the cushions of the couch acting as a barrier between them and the hardness of the furniture. Keith returned with his pillow and dark blanket as well as two other white pillows. “I think you dropped these in the hall, Lance.”

“Hey thanks. I meant to grab them later after helping Hunk.”

Keith studied the nest, picturing in his mind how to place four people in the space and finding that there was no real comfortable way without touching someone else, especially considering how much larger Lance was and how much extra body he himself had. So he circled behind the couch and reaching over the back, placed his pillow and blanket there as a placeholder; he didn’t care that the cushions weren’t there.

Lance saw the action. “Whoa whoa whoa, Keith, what are you doing?”

“There’s not enough room for everyone in the middle,” Keith answered, his tone of voice a little annoyed that Lance couldn’t see the obvious.

“Sure there is.” Lance got up from spreading blankets, arms akimbo, surveying his work.

Keith folded his arms. “If you want to sacrifice personal space, then maybe.”

“It’s a sleepover, personal space is supposed to be shared in exchange for cuddles!” Lance countered, holding his arms out in front of his person as if the notion was a given to everyone.

Hunk patted Lance’s side. “Leave it be, Lance. Some people don’t like to sleep that close to others. Just be glad that Keith’s joining us in his own way.” Keith relaxed. “Thanks, Hunk.”

Pidge spoke up from behind them, holding her laptop to her chest. “Yeah, I’m passing too. I don’t want to risk anyone getting bit by my snake hair while we sleep. I don’t think they’re poisonous but I don’t want to find out the unfavorable way. I also don’t want to be close to anyone if my blindfold slips off.”

“So where will you sleep?” Hunk queried.

“Next to Shiro. With my scales, I’m not bothered much by his cold.” She grinned at Keith, addressing him with her next words, “So you can have the couch all to yourself.” She set her laptop on the table and commandeered a pillow and an unused comforter. Folding the comforter in half for a makeshift bed, she placed it closed to Shiro’s neck, not strictly up against it, but close to it. Grabbing the pillow and her laptop, she made herself comfortable. “This is good enough for me.”

“Just be sure you get some actual sleep too,” Keith pressed. 

Pidge waved her hand dismissively. “Yeah yeah.”

Lance stepped into the nest to rearrange some pillows before he finally felt content. Hunk stepped in and plopped down, legs crossed. Lance situated himself so that he could lie completely on his side. He didn’t quite settle in for the night though, choosing to lay with his front legs under him and his back legs to the side, the majority of himself pressed up against the cushions along the foot of the couch. “So, what kind of gossip is available to share?”

Keith made an elongated coil of himself along half the couch, situating it so that he would use the near end of his tail as a headboard to prop his pillow up against. Covering his torso with his blanket and squashing the pillow up against his tail, he commented tiredly, “How about we just go to sleep?”

Lance pointed accusingly at the naga. “You are no fun at all.”

“You’re right. I’m not. I’m tired and I want to sleep.” He punctuated his explanation by flopping over on his pillow, back turned to them.

“He’s got a point, Lance.” Hunk commented.

“Not you too buddy,” Lance half whined.

“We can gossip while cooking breakfast tomorrow, sound acceptable?” Hunk leaned back against pillows and cushions, hands to his sides.

“Fine,” Lance drawled, loosely folding his arms with a slight pout. Hunk chuckled. It suddenly occurred to him that he wasn’t in his pajamas. So he stood and stepped carefully out of the nest. “I’m going to go change. Should have done so earlier but, sidetracked. Get comfy and I’ll be back in a few.”

Lance flopped over, grabbing and wrapping his arms around a pillow. He tucked all his legs in as comfortably as he could so Hunk wouldn’t trip on them when he returned, his back facing Keith’s back. For a couple minutes the only sounds that could be heard were the tapping keys of Pidge’s laptop and steady breathing. Hunk returned and before climbing back into the nest, flipped the lights off, leaving the ambient low blue accent lights to glow faintly around the walls. Discovering that he could easily see in the dim light as if it were midday, Hunk confidently stepped into the nest and got comfortable underneath a blanket, throwing one end over Lance’s torso. “Here’s a bit of gossip for you to hold you over, Lance. Apparently I can see in the dark!” Hunk whispered.

Lance pushed himself up on his elbows. “That’s so cool!”

“Quiet,” Keith literally hissed. Lance lay back down, grumbling. Several minutes passed, the stillness never long before being interrupted by Pidge’s keyboard. And then Lance broke it by looking over his shoulder and asking, “You warm enough up there, Keith?”

“I’m fine.”

“Want another blanket?”

“No.”

“If you do get cold…”

“Sleep,” Keith hissed again.

“Okay, okay. Sheesh,” Lance whispered, resting his head back on his pillow. Hunk laid a hand on his friend’s arm in a comforting gesture. Lance sighed and closed his eyes, deciding to court sleep since no one wanted to talk. Well, more accurately, someone in particular didn’t want anyone to be talking. He figured that it would take two hours for him to fall asleep, figured that he just wasn’t that tired. He also figured that he would be the last one to fall asleep too.

He figured wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I tinker with this chapter the more I feel like I just need to leave it alone. Especially since it's a longer chapter and not one I want to split into two. It's been an uncooperative chapter for sure and my apologies if it shows.
> 
> Thank you all so much for the kudos and the bookmarks. It adds fuel to the fire to keep writing this.
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated.


	6. Adventures in insomnia; take one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance can't sleep.

He wasn’t sure what woke him up, or if he even was really awake. But that quasi dream state gave yield to a growing pressure against his shoulder, one that indicated he needed to roll over. So he did; or more aptly, tried. Why wouldn’t his lower half cooperate? It felt heavy with an extra weight he wasn’t immediately familiar with. Cracking open his eyes, he stared at where his legs were, waiting for them to adjust to the ambient light in the room. Seeing his massive horse body, he palmed his face, dragging his hand downwards while feeling like an idiot for forgetting yet again that he was half horse. He didn’t remember his last dream but he was for sure that he wasn’t running around on four legs in it. When would it finally set in? Maybe he shouldn’t hope for that because wouldn’t that be resigning the hope of ever being completely human again?

With some thought he managed to roll all of himself onto his back which left his horse legs up in the air. It only took a minute for him to realize and come to the conclusion that the position was insanely uncomfortable for his lower half, so he flopped back over onto his side and sighed heavily. Several moments passed before he concluded that getting comfortable again wasn’t likely and pushed himself upright, clumsily getting to his hooves because of the movement of the blanket nest beneath him. The blanket that had been covering his torso easily slid off and had unfortunately been pulled off of Hunk in the process. He quietly clicked his tongue, easing himself down into a kneeling position with just his front legs bent so he could readjust the blanket to cover the majority of his friend, taking a bit of extra care to make sure at least one foot was uncovered because Hunk tended to overheat easily. It wasn’t as if it were difficult, the foot whose duty was to stick out had already been straightened away from the main body. After a bit of fussing, he rose and stepped out of the nest, cringing at the click-clicking his hooves made on the cold bare floor. No one seemed to notice the noise though. Even still, he wished he had thought ahead to bring his rubber socks to muffle the noise. Standing at the mouth of the recessed couch, he stretched and surveyed the room, taking stock of the rest of his team.

Pidge was asleep, knees up against her chest, small wings tucked against her back, and arms to the side of her face, her head resting on the pillow she claimed. The snakes that were her hair were splayed out in such a manner that none were pressed underneath the weight of her head. Lance wondered if they had their own sentience and were asleep too and if so, was there a possibility that some were keeping vigil? He grinned at the thought. Her laptop lay open in front of her makeshift bed, within arm’s reach, the screen casting a flickering light upon the sleeping girl. It appeared that she was cold though so he gathered up the single unused comforter that had been on the opposite side of the couch from Keith and laid it gently over her. She snorted tersely but remained asleep. Stepping up behind the part of the couch Keith was sleeping on, he looked upon the naga, noticing that he had not budged from the initial position he had settled himself into who knows how much time ago. Lance wondered to himself two things; how long had he himself been asleep and did Keith sleep like a soldier or something? Lance could see Keith’s arms were folded firmly under the blanket, even as he lay on his side. That had to be uncomfortable. Concern furrowed his brow a moment later and he knelt to lean over and just barely touch a spot on Keith’s tail - because who knew what would happen if he touched Keith’s face. The body beneath his fingertips was chilled. Pulling away, Lance ‘tsked’; of course Keith would be too stubborn to speak up. Unfortunately there wasn’t another blanket in the room that wasn’t in use already. Well, at least having a task would pass a bit of time. Stepping as lightly as he could, he left the room.

The blue ambient light lined the hallway, supplied by the inset lamps containing glowing crystals that he wondered again if they were similar to Balmera crystals. Ambling along, he recounted which linen closets he had already raided and which ones he knew of that might have another blanket. Considering how cold Keith was though, he determined to find something similar to an electric blanket. Or if he couldn’t, he would find one he could throw in the dryer for ten minutes or something; Keith was unlikely to warm back up on his own.

His feet and his memory walk him down familiar hallways, though they all mostly look the same to new faces, passed the paladins’ quarters where two closets were located but had been relieved of their blankets and pillows, into somewhat uncharted territory according to his memory map. He had only been down this particular hallway a few times because of a wrong turn. Curious of what lay within he asked Coran for a floor plan instead of risking getting lost as at the time he was still very unknowledgeable about how to navigate around the castle ship. The advisor readily pulled up a holographic map on a data pad and navigated with a poke and swish of his finger to where Lance had described. For the most part it was a transition hallway with a few access points to the ducts. What he was after at the moment, if he remembered correctly, were the rooms meant for long term storage somewhere beyond the hallway. Surely there would be one stocked with more linens than what the paladins and the Alteans currently use because the princess had to have had other guests prior to the war, correct? Just like having larger bathing rooms for honored guests? Lance shook his head; of course there was, he just had to find them.

He wouldn’t have too look alone though as he turned a corner and literally bumped into Coran. Immediately his hands were on the advisor’s shoulders to steady him. “Sorry, Coran. Didn’t see you.”

“No harm my boy. But, what brings you wandering about? Shouldn’t you be sleeping with the others?” Coran dusted himself before grabbing and tugging at his lapels.

Lance rubbed the back of his neck, swishing his tail anxiously. “I couldn’t sleep. Anyway, I need something and I hope there is an Altean equivalent.”

“No promises but I won’t know until you ask,” Coran encouraged, putting his arms behind his back.

“Do you have anything like an electric blanket?” At Coran’s raised eyebrow, Lance hurried to elaborate, gesticulating lightly, “Basically a blanket that generates heat by using a small power source. On Earth they’re commonly plugged into electric outlets though there were some portable ones that were battery powered, they just don’t work as well for long term use.”

“Ah, thermal spreads! Of course, of course. Though, what need have you for one of them?” He waved his hand, indicating that Lance should follow him. “It’s for Keith. The stubborn idiot let himself get cold again.”

“I’m not sure if stubbornness is truly the cause or if it’s poor judgement due to lack of proper information,” Coran counseled. Gesturing with his right hand, opened palm up, he looked to his side at Lance and continued, “Considering you five have only had four days and three nights to adjust, and there is obviously still much for each of you to learn about yourselves and each other. It may not have occurred to him at the time.”

“Well, I thought of it at least. Still, he refused another blanket when I asked and left no room for debate, or argument if you want to call it that,” Lance huffed, folding his arms. Cocking his head after a moment, he added, “It’s possible though that even a second blanket wouldn’t have been sufficient enough to keep him warm.”

Rather than comment, the advisor merely nodded his head and rested his arms behind his back again.

Some minutes of amicable quietness accompanied by the click-click of Lance’s hooves followed them down left and right turns into an area of the castle ship that Lance had only been aware of through the holomap he had been shown. Coran stepped through a sliding door into a large room with several silver metal storage shelves resting on rails loaded with sheets and comforters of various soft pastel colors. _Even Alteans believed in utilizing empty space as efficiently as possible,_ Lance thought to himself. Coran manipulated a couple of the shelves to get to one wedged between, stepping into the opened space with familiarity. With a finger guiding his sight, he scanned the linens quickly, finding his quarry just above his reach. “Well of course they would be beyond my reach and I didn’t bring a step stool,” he mumbled to himself. Pointing to a dark blue blanket two shelves above the adviser's head he called to Lance, “What we’re looking for is right there. I’m sure you could reach it easily.” Lance followed the adviser’s finger and stepped forward, pulling the blanket from the top of the stack it was on and holding it so it draped over both arms. It had some weight to it like a thick comforter but it was thin and fuzzy like a plush throw. Coran smiled at him, waiting patiently. Lance then realized there was a problem; there was no room for a big horse to turn around. “Quiznak,” he mumbled, looking over his shoulder and glaring at his horse back end.

“What seems to be the matter, my boy?”

“I haven’t quite figured out how to walk backwards with four legs,” Lance explained, sighing, his head and shoulders drooping. “Would have been nice to know earlier today too, then I wouldn’t have gotten myself into danger and Keith wouldn’t have had to risk his life the way he did.” He straightened to face Coran again. Unable to reach his shoulders, the Altean placed both hands on the tops of Lance’s front legs; his second set of shoulders. “It does no one any benefit to dwell on mistakes of the past. The point is to learn from them and improve oneself. Look at this situation as a prime and safe opportunity to learn and do your best. There is no hurry so take your time to gather information and devise a plan.”

Lance nodded, switching his focus on the Altean’s eyes to studying his hooves. As Coran pulled his hands away, Lance lifted one leg, then switched to the other. Twisting to look at his back hooves, he lifted one, then switched to the other. With his back ones he made the motion a few more times before stepping back with one. He tried to follow with the other back leg before realizing that it felt awkward and he would lose his stability if he did that. So he tried with his front leg on the same side, realizing the same thing. So using the opposite front leg he stepped back, twisted around the other way to look at the opposite back hoof, moved it back, then the opposing front leg. Having got the rhythm down, he did the sequence again only a bit faster. The third time he tried too fast and lost his balance. Fourth time was the same speed as the second. Choosing to stick at that pace he tried to do the fifth repetition without looking at every leg first, grinning to himself when he succeeded. It took a few minutes but he was able to back out into a space wide enough for him to turn around and leave the room. Coran mirrored Lance’s grin with a wide smile of his own. “Keep practicing and soon you’ll be able to do it by instinct,” he said as they exited the room, the door closing with a swoosh.

“Thanks, Coran.”

“You’re welcome, Lance. Now, let me walk you back so you don’t wander these halls to sunrise. Once you get Number 4 tucked in, you should try and get some sleep yourself.”

Lance’s eyes went wide for a few seconds, realizing that Coran had used his name, not a term of endearment or his silly nickname. Tears started to well but they did not fall. Mouth slightly agape, he dared to look at the mustached fellow just slightly, curious if there was any expression on his face that would give him away. Only a quiet smile peeked out from under his mustache but there was something, a twinkle, in his eyes. Facing forward, Lance ate up the warmth he felt emanating from deep within his chest, a quiet smile of his own daring to come forward.

So distracted he was that it wasn’t until the two had reached the common room that he came to attention. Coran held his hand out for the blanket. Rather than hand it over, Lance held it out for Coran who picked up a corner and showed it to him. “Here’s the controls. They’re very basic. This switch here activates and deactivates it. These ones next to it control the temperature. I suggest leaving it on the lowest setting so Number 4 can remain asleep. If he’s still asleep in the morning, raise it up a degree.” What he was pointing to was a small hand-sized polymer board attached to the blanket by means Lance couldn’t identify. There was one button close to the bottom with the easily identifiable on/off symbol on it. Above it were two buttons with a plus and minus sign on each respectively. Above them were five bars, each one a bit larger in succession. Easy enough to understand. “I got it, Coran. And I’ll try to get more sleep.”

Coran saluted. “Then I’ll see you at breakfast. Good night.” Twisting on his heel and arms behind his back, he ambled away.

Trying to tip-toe back into the room, Lance could both hear and feel a large rumbling sigh come from Shiro. He didn’t know how aware the dragon was and, for Shiro’s sake, hoped he was still asleep. Stepping around him to the back of the couch, Lance activated the blanket and unfurled it before draping it lightly over the slumbering naga, pulling it up to his shoulder and tucking it around his torso and between his tail and the couch. If Keith was aware of anything, he didn’t show it. Sadly, the blanket didn’t reach far enough to cover all of him, but half should be sufficient, right?

Now for the problem that woke him up in the first place.

Hunk hadn’t moved much since he’d been gone; there’s that. The couch cushions weren’t doing anything; those might be of some use. There were two pillows available; possibilities were beginning to take form. He thought of various arrangements in his mind, taking into account how largely uncomfortable just two blankets on the floor was for his human half and how he barely tolerated it with his horse half. It wasn’t even a marginal improvement on what he’d been doing in his room - essentially sleeping in the same position he had been sitting in whilst letting his mane dry. He needed means for his back to relax and yet be supported. But he couldn’t lay on his human back without needing to lay on his horse back and he already proved that idea as a bad one. Sleeping on his stomach wasn’t possible because of his front legs. A couch cushion was almost as thick as the space between his human waist and horse elbows though. Maybe he could lie on that? But, what to do with his horse half? Resting on his legs was fine for short periods of time, and the most comfortable was on cushions. Looking at everything, was there really no perfect solution? Sighing, he resigned himself to what he hoped would be the most comfortable arrangement for a few hours.

Gathering up enough couch cushions for his horse half to lay on, he lined them up in front of the opposite end of the couch Keith was sleeping on, at the mouth, out of the nest. Next, he nabbed the two pillows. He laid down on the cushions in front of the end of the couch, put one pillow between his stomach and the edge and the other pillow on top. On top of that pillow he placed his arm, bent at the elbow and finally rested his cheek at its crook. This would likely cause some stiffness when he woke up, or be the reason why he woke up again, but it was seriously the best solution he could come up with. He heaved a heavy sigh again, squirmed, and then closed his eyes.

Sleep was not so quick to come the second time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for being slow to update. Two weeks ago I got hit with some hard and heavy news that really gave my muse a beating. And then a few days ago I learned that I'm losing my job on Friday. So my little muse has been hiding in a corner afraid to come out in the face of much emotion and turmoil.
> 
> I consider it an achievement to have gotten this short chapter out. I hope it's to your liking and that it'll hold all of you amazing and wonderful readers over while I coax my muse out of her corner so the inspiration can flow again. I don't know when the next chapter will be up but please, bear with me.
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated.


	7. Adventures in insomnia; take two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro gets woken up. Why can't the guy get any rest?

He felt it just moments after the centaur left; a deep, gut-wrenching feeling that spoke to his bones and roused him from his fitful slumber. The echoing tap tap of receding hooves on a porcelain floor tugged on the sprouting anxiety, bringing up a grotesque worm of an emotion. Taking in a deep breath to calm himself, he opened one eye, the one closest to the door. Where was he going? He needed to come back. It wasn’t safe out there. He might be taken.

But this was the castle ship. No one else was in the castle ship besides the paladins and Allura and Coran. No one to harm them. No one to take them. So the centaur would be safe no matter where he was, no real reason to be so upset. Though he tried to reason with himself in his mind, the instinct would not be subdued. He flexed his muscles, ready to move before a snort near his head distracted him; Pidge. Pidge was there, he had to protect Pidge. And Keith and Hunk, they were there too. Asleep. Defenseless. So he settled and sighed.

Shiro tried to occupy his mind with something else, almost anything else. However, the only thing his mind could bring to the table was recent events. Well, that was better than the past. So he thought about how they all had changed, some more dramatically than others. Both eyes opened, he lazily scanned the room, everything as visible as if in the mid dawn light to him because of his dragon sight. The colors weren’t the same but, he could easily discern shapes and textures. He flexed the muscles of his neck, shifting a bit to find whether Pidge was leaning up against him as she had been before he fell asleep. When he felt nothing reciprocate, he dared to lift his head and find each member of his team in the room.

First he found Pidge, though his view of her was a bit awkward and askew considering how close to his head she had taken up residence for the night; he could only manage to see her with one eye. But his memory of her new features came fresh to the forefront of his mind; he didn’t absolutely need to see her to see the details of her skin that wasn’t covered by clothing, how dark grey scales had covered every inch of her arms and legs, how the scales peeked out from her hairline along the outline of her face, accenting her cheekbones and her jawline and the entirety of each of the bodies of the eight snakes on her head. He didn’t need to see her directly to see that her pale skin had been replaced by an ashen grey color where the scales were absent and her nails had been replaced by short black claws. And like the color of the blindfold around her eyes, her wings, each as long as her back when folded, were black as a night void of stars. Such a vibrant girl, transformed into something that belonged deep in a cave.

He shifted his gaze to the sleeping Hunk, alone in the nest of blankets and pillows, neatly tucked in save for one foot. He could pick out the dark coarse fur peeking out from the sleeves and pant legs of the troll’s pajamas, could see how it covered the back of Hunk’s hands and the tops of his feet, thin on the backs of his knuckles and the tops of his toes. Having seen the back of him earlier in the day, Shiro could surmise that the fur covered Hunk’s back as well. As for how long it went up his arms and legs, he could only guess. The fur was as dark as the hair on his head and his skin had taken on a darker baked earth tone. The tusks jutting out from his lower jaw seemed aged, stained as they were with an old yellow color. And while he was big before, his appendages very likely could have become stockier. Hunk didn’t appear inhibited in his dexterity, however.

Lastly, he watched Keith, stiff on the hard couch, torso wrapped up in a blanket that was too thin to reasonably keep a reptile warm. Keith, whose transformation had been among the most dramatic, who had lost his legs to a large tail and most of his skin to pointed scales that were mostly of a darker shade of red, though there were some that were akin to the orange and red-purple colors of a late sunset mixed in. Keith’s ears had taken on an Altean shape and the scales covered the backs and top arch of them. They had taken up the space on his forehead and the bridge of his nose, and giving him freckles under his eyes. They ran along the sides of his carotids and around the back of his neck and like Hunk, Shiro surmised they covered Keith’s back too. From what he could see, the scales ran along the tops of Keith’s arms and along his fingers, ending in black claws like Pidge. But unlike her, Keith still had soft fingertips and palms. The scales that ran along the underside of his tail were not only bigger and lateral in size and arrangement, but they were lighter in color too, more towards the orange colors of a late sunset. He could only guess what was under the black shirt Keith favored.

Content for the most part that his team was safe and all was nearly in order, he laid his head back down and stared at the small table with the water pitcher and mugs resting on it. He listened to the deep breathing of his sleeping team and if he focused, could zero in on their individual heartbeats.

The acuity of his senses was scaring him.

He had no idea how much time had passed between the moment Lance left and the moment his echoing clip-clopping hooves startled him from his hyper focus. The centaur paused at the entrance of the room, the likely reason of his temporary departure held in his arms. Shiro sighed deeply, his instinct easing up and relief washing over him, flushing the anxiety down an imaginary drain.

He watched Lance as he spread the blanket across Keith, proud of the blue paladin’s nurturing nature. Lance, who had similarly lost his legs in the form of familiarity, who had taken the most time to adjust enough to become mobile and confident of himself again. The half of him that was horse was not of a breed that Shiro was familiar with. But, Lance didn’t lose that lithe sleekness about him. The color of his coat was the same chestnut like his hair, lightening in tone closer to his hooves which were a tawny brown. He didn’t know about Lance’s mane, Hunk and Keith having been the only ones to have seen it at the time.

He became instantly concerned though while watching Lance try and get comfortable enough to sleep. Was that what woke him in the first place? Shiro would have to ask in the morning at breakfast. When Lance settled as much as he could in what looked insanely uncomfortable, Shiro closed his eye and waited for sleep, listening to the humming of whatever was inside the castle ship’s framework.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter is short. But it surprised me. Both in the fact that it wasn't planned and the ease and speed in which it was written. As for when the next one is going to come, I can't say.
> 
> I want to extend another thank you to those of you who have extended your support. It is greatly appreciated.
> 
> I have a tumblr page now. You can find me @bucketoffudgeinamuffin  
> I'd like to put fan art on it as well as interact with you readers if you're interested in something like that. A close friend has challenged me to get 20 followers and if I do, she'll draw me a fan art to share.  
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated.


	8. Adventures with a couple bros making breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The legs of Voltron get together to make breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are not already in the know, I have a tumblr account where I post teasers from upcoming chapters. @bucketoffudgeinamuffin. At the time of posting this chapter, I have 10 followers. I'm required to have 20 before a close friend gives me my first piece of fanart which will be posted on the blog.

When Hunk came to, he had an immediate sense that his fellow leg was in some trouble. Prying open his eyes, he found his best friend in an insanely uncomfortable position with an expression that he had come to understand as one that meant he needed an intervention. “Lance,” his voice was groggy and dry, “What’s wrong?”

“Hunk! Buddy, am I so glad you’re awake!” Lance hissed a whisper, that hiss carrying a weight of pain as well. “I can’t move my neck and I’ve been stuck like this for about ten dobashes.”

Hunk yawned and stretched, his hands high above his head with elbows locked as he kicked the blanket off himself. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and commented, “Sleeping like that, the surprise would be that you wouldn’t develop a crick in your neck.” He leaned forward to get to his hands and knees, then crawled over to Lance’s side. His friend whined. “I couldn’t sleep on the floor. So I tried this.”

“That’s all you could come up with?”

“Given what was available at the time, yes.”

Up close, Hunk examined Lance’s neck, taking notice of the strained muscles, and formulated a plan. “Hang tight, I need to get a few things.” Rocking back onto the balls of his feet, a few pops punctuated the area as he stood. Lance whined, “I’m already hanging tight. I don’t want to be tight anymore.”

Hunk rubbed the back of his messy bed head. “Sorry, bad choice of words. I’ll be back as fast as I can.” Gesturing with his hands to wait, he spun around on his heel and jogged out the door. A mighty sigh vibrated the floor and churned the atmosphere. Hunk knocked it into a box labeled ‘later’ in his mind and headed for the kitchen because for some reason what he was after could not be found in the much closer bathroom.

In the kitchen he quickly grabbed a bowl and filled it halfway with hot water; the lovely thing about Altean plumbing is that he didn’t have to run the water for it to get hot. Next he grabbed two towels and an Altean instant cold pack from the first aid shelf in one of the cupboards near the electric range; thankfully Alteans believed in first aid for potential burns while cooking.

Walking briskly, because jogging would have splashed the hot water out of the bowl, he was surprised to find Shiro’s dragon head about a foot away from Lance when he returned to the room, Shiro’s strangely human eyes staring intently at the centaur with an aura of deep worry. Lance whispered, waving Shiro away with his free hand, “It’ll be okay, Hunk’s back. So give him some room to work, yeah?”

The massive black dragon head pulled away, mumbling a quiet, “Of course, I’m sorry.” Hunk shook his head; they were going to have to figure out a way to address and manage Shiro’s overwhelming protective instincts that were undoubtedly aggravated and intensified by his role as team leader and whatever self appointed characteristics he feels he should possess and maintain as such.

The troll quickly returned to Lance’s side with his supplies. Sitting down cross-legged so he could support the bowl in his lap, Hunk dunked one of the towels into the water, prodding it with a finger to make sure it was thoroughly soaked before wringing it out just enough so it was still damp. Folding it in half lengthwise, he warned in a quiet tone, “This is going to be hot but it will help your neck relax.” Delicately, he draped the towel along the back of his friend’s neck, cupping it around and underneath, into the gap between his head and arm. Lance seethed and flinched, trying to pull away but stopped by the pain shooting up and down the muscles of his neck; a dull throb was developing at the base of his skull in protest. “Hunk, buddy, we need to redefine your definition of hot.” As the towel cooled though, he could feel his angry muscles twitch, hesitant to move but showing signs that they just might.

Hunk held the towel in place, pursing his lips and furrowing his brow. “I thought this was an okay temperature for you.”

“Nope, too hot. I just hope you didn’t burn me.”

Hunk peeked beneath the towel to find a crab-pink color blooming on the skin from underneath Lance’s hairline on either side of his mane. It was too early to really tell but from initial impressions Lance was in the clear of first degree burns. “You’re fine. Probably just super sensitive because your neck is stiff.”

“Or your sense of hot and cold has dulled. Have you seen your hands lately? You know, really looked at them?”

Hunk pulled the towel away from Lance’s neck and dunked it back in the bowl, taking a few moments to study his hands while the hot water seeped back into the fibers of the white cloth. Aside from the hobbit hair on the backs and knuckles of them, he didn’t see anything amiss, even when he flipped his hands over to study his palms. “I’m not seeing what you’re seeing.” Wringing out the towel like before, he held it against Lance’s neck again.

“Your skin is thicker, tougher. I can see it in your fingertips and in your palms.”

“I’m an engineer. I work with my hands a lot so of course my skin is going to be tougher on them.”

“No, no, no. I know that. Trust me, it’s gotten tougher than before we were transformed.” Lance tested his neck, lifting his head a minuscule amount away from his bent arm. Sharp blades of pain ate into the muscle forcing it back down. Hunk dropped the towel into the bowl and with his fingertips, massaged Lance’s neck by pressing the muscle between his fingers, applying just enough pressure to coax the fibers into relaxing. Lance cringed against the texture of said fingertips though and Hunk noticed. “Not trying to be a jerk, buddy. That just really hurts.”

“It’s going to hurt before it gets better,” Hunk tried to soothe.

Lance frowned and did his best to ignore the pain of his tight muscles being pulled tighter with Hunk’s ministrations. He couldn’t get his mind to focus on something else though and after a couple minutes he noticed the tension elevating just a bit so he dared to lift his head. It burned and pinched but he was able to get it upright again. Using both hands he rubbed at his neck when Hunk pulled away, mumbling a quiet, “Ow.” Hunk activated the cold pack, worked it with his strong fingers, wrapped it in the second towel and then handed it to Lance. “Put this on it for ten dobashes.”

Trying not to turn his head too much, Lance accepted the cold pack and held it against his neck with the ends of the towel that weren’t touching it, much like a person holding a gym towel around their neck after a workout. At first the cold burned in that way that cold stuff tends to feel when it touches something warm. And yet, as the heat from his abused muscles faded, the coolness soothed like water over the skin on a hot summer day, only it worked itself deeper. Lance imagined a little water sprite moving along the muscle fibers, knocking away barbs that were keeping them clenched together; his mind did funny things sometimes.

“Head to the med bay and get yourself a pain killer. Then meet me in the kitchen to help with breakfast?” Hunk said, lifting the bowl from his lap and standing. Awkwardly, Lance got to his hooves, making a point to kick at one of the cushions to silently voice his displeasure. “We definitely need to find you some better sleep accommodations. This is the fourth night you’ve gone without a sound eight hours, how are you functioning?”

“I don’t really know, Hunk. If this were happening back at the Garrison, I’d be due for a crash by now. But, strangely I feel okay, aside from the neck,” Lance answered as they left the room. Neither had noticed Shiro following their every move, having not laid his head back to rest when Lance shooed him away. Nor did they notice him choose to lay his head near the door to listen to the sound of their receding steps.

They parted ways at a cross section that led to the kitchen, the paladin quarters, the med bay and back the way they came. Hunk whistled some nameless tune, thinking about what was available to use for breakfast and what he could potentially make. He had some tubers and berries from yesterday’s foraging. Some nuts and grains from the last planet they were on. All the eggs were used up last night. The pantry was well stocked. There might still be milk left in the fridge.

Entering the kitchen, he dumped the bowl in the sink and wrung out the towel, sending it down the laundry shoot. He opened the large fridge to find three various cuts of meat wrapped in the Altean equivalent of butcher paper. Excited, he moved them to one counter to unwrap, evaluating them and the possibilities. He still had his finger wrapped around his chin when Lance walked in. “So, what are we making?” The centaur was slowly rocking his head back and forth as he walked, the cold pack no longer on his neck; he had left it in the med bay and had sent the towel down to laundry. The part of his mane that ran from the base of his skull to his collar was still damp.

Hunk looked up. “Well, I’m thinking tuber cakes and a fruit bowl for starters. And there’s enough meat here for a modest breakfast split between Keith, Pidge and Shiro. Well, Shiro if he shifts to half human. But we seriously need to get him sated as a dragon; I think he’ll be happier as a full dragon, not a starving one.”

“He should have gone hunting with Keith and me.”

“Yeah. The haul you two brought in in just one day is fantastic! Totally unexpected.”

“What do you mean unexpected?!”

Hunk gestured for Lance to calm down. “I mean that you caught more than you expected to and as a result weren’t able to bring it all back without help from Coran. So maybe, if you’re going out again today, bring a trailer?”

“Yeah, good idea. But if you’re talking about getting Shiro to eat, maybe we should just catch enough for him to feel full. It’s not like we’re short on meat for Keith and Pidge. Though one more of those alien zebras might not hurt.”

“Problem is getting Shiro to eat in the first place. I’m pretty sure he’s afraid of his dragon instincts and is fighting against them to maintain as much of his humanity as he can.” Hunk moved away from the meat cuts to the sink to wash his hands, moving to the side to let Lance follow suit. Afterwards, Lance moved back around the counter where his horse half wouldn’t be Hunk’s way.

“Not to be philosophical or anything but, what does it mean to be human?” Lance asked as Hunk handed him the bag of tubers he had collected and a knife and bowl to begin peeling. “I’m currently half horse but I still think I think like a human. You’re currently a troll and yet I think you still think like a human. So shouldn’t that be what matters? We may not be human but, we remember what being human is so, doesn’t that mean we’re still human?”

“Makes sense to me. For Shiro though, it may not. And it could be because of his time with the Galra as the ‘Champion’.” Hunk was busy getting a soup pot and some kitchen utensils out from their storage places as he talked. “What if he thinks he’s already lost a lot of his humanity because of what he was forced to do?”

“If he does feel that way, he’ll never admit it.” Lance waved the paring knife in his hand for emphasis. “This is sensitive ground we’re walking on here.”

“I don’t think Shiro realizes how much he’s giving himself away by trying to hide it,” Hunk mused as he began to fill the large pot with water. “We can tell that he’s holding stuff in and can only guess at what that stuff may be. I don’t have to be Keith to know that much.” Pot almost half full, he placed it on the range to heat and picked up another paring knife to help Lance with the peeling. “How can we address this with him without offending him though?”

“Get Keith to make the first move?” Lance suggested with a bit of sarcastic mirth to his tone. After a moment he added, “Keith might make the first move on his own without any prompting, just, not with anyone else around. That’s how he is.”

“True. Okay, that’s enough. Now, cut them up into cubes, they will cook faster that way.” Hunk fished out two cutting boards.

For a while there was an amicable quietness between them, the sounds of knives hitting wooden surfaces at irregular rhythms a kind of melancholy accompaniment to the scene of their topic of conversation. Once the tubers were diced though and Hunk had them in their bowl under running water to rinse, Lance broke the silence. “So, you can see in the dark?”

Sliding the rinsed tubers into the pot of boiling water, Hunk chuckled. “Yeah. Blew my mind when I got back after changing.” He turned the heat down and placed a glass lid over the top.

“What do you see?” Lance was leaning over, elbows on the counter, hands hugging his upper arms, the pile of tuber peels forgotten to the side of him.

“Well, with the ambient lights in the room it was like it was a clear afternoon day, just everything had a blue tint to it. I could easily make out the details of everything, like the grain of your coat and the weave of your pajamas for example.” Hunk answered while washing the cutting boards and knives. “It makes me curious as to if I can see in almost total darkness if not total.”

“Sound grounds for experimenting in my book!” Lance grinned.

“What about you? You must have discovered something about yourself by now.”

Lance shrugged. “I caught an alien fish with my bare hands yesterday. A big one about the length of my arm.”

“Cool! That must have been hard to keep a grip on once you got it out of the water!”

“Well, it did put up more of a fight than the little ones I could catch back home.” Lance slumped, shoulders high and head low. “But it’s nowhere near as cool as being able to see in the dark.”

“It’s plenty cool! I can’t do that. Pidge can’t do that. I’m pretty sure Keith can’t do that. And I highly doubt Shiro could either.”

“It’s not really a new skill though. It’s just one I’ve gotten a bit better at. Keith though, he’s gotten faster and stronger. He took out one of those alien zebras on his own by wrapping himself super tight around it.”

Hunk scooped the tuber peelings into an organic waste bin. “I think you’re confusing skill with superpowers.” He started to gesticulate as he talked. “Being able to see in the dark isn’t really a superpower, it’s a physical function. There are lots of animals on Earth that can see in low light. And Keith is like a snake, right. Snakes are quick to strike and strong constrictors. They’re innate skills. So, what have you got?”

Lance lifted his head to look Hunk square in the face, his brow furrowed just slight enough to show Hunk that Lance was giving his question some serious thought. “I can run fast?”

“Faster than any of us without a doubt. And that’s one of your innate skills. So don’t be so down. I’m positive we’ll find more before this whole ordeal is over.”

It was a weak one, barely there, but Hunk could see the smile growing on his friend’s face. “Sure.”

“How about you get some coffee going? I’ll cut up this meat into tenders. If we had a meat grinder I’d make sausage meatballs out of some of it.”

Lance hummed “Space coffee.” Rising up off his elbows he made his way to the other side of the kitchen where a walk-in pantry was. Many dried goods rested on the shelves but the one he was hunting for was in a green metal can. Space coffee was weird; instead of a rich brown, the beans were purple. When ground up they turned red and depending on the strength of the coffee, the brew ranged anywhere from blood red to a strawberry pink. He was so engrossed in his thoughts as he scanned for the can that when he finally found it, another realization hit him; the pantry was wide enough to snugly fit two horses side by side but, it wasn’t wide enough for him to turn around. “Quiznak.”

“You okay over there?” Hunk asked over his shoulder. Lance called over his, “Yeah... I just... I need a minute.” It bothered him that he had to think this over again. Didn’t he just figure this out a few hours ago? Green can in his arms up against his chest, he mentally mapped his steps before putting them into practice. It was a shorter distance to back out of and he was quicker at it than in the storage room however, it still annoyed him; this whole backwards thing was a liability that could be deadly in a real battle.

The scowl on his face must have been real because as soon as Hunk looked at him his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“If the one good thing about being half horse is being able to sprint at nearly forty miles an hour, the thing that counters that is not being able to move backwards faster than a snail.” Lance set the can of coffee a little forcefully on the countertop, huffing. “This is so unfair! I could walk backwards in my sleep with two legs and now I’m tripping over myself with four!”

Hunk sighed. “You can’t expect to master everything in just four days, Lance.”

Lance braced himself on the counter with his hands on either side of the can, hanging his head and shaking it in irritation. “I know, I know. It’s just, we spent feebs training ourselves to be the best team that we could against the galra, and we were getting good at it. Now, now we’re back to square one. What if the galra attack now?” He lifted his head to stare intently into Hunk’s eyes with that last sentence. Hunk reached over and clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’re not completely helpless. You proved it to yourself when you were out with Keith yesterday.”

“Yeah, I proved to myself that I don’t know how to fight like this.” With one hand, Lance gestured to himself.”

“Or, you showed yourself that you have things you need to work on. Try and look at it in a positive way. You still know how to fight, you’ve got the instinct. Like all of us though, we need to retrain our instincts to work with our new bodies. You’re not in this alone, Lance. You, are not alone.” Hunk shook Lance’s shoulder for good measure which brought a smile to his friend’s face. Lance placed a hand over Hunk’s, mumbling, “Thanks, buddy.”

“Any time.” Hunk pulled his hand away, saying “How about getting back to that coffee?”, and got back to slicing the meat. He had already cut about two thirds of the lot into long tenders thinking of Keith and Pidge. Looking at the other third, he decided to go with steaks for Shiro. He listened to Lance working, pulling out the grinder - why does an advanced alien castle ship have a spice grinder that can grind even coffee but it doesn’t have a meat grinder? - and measuring out the beans, the odd yet familiar smell wafting over to him as Lance pulsed the grinder. Because there was no automatic coffee machine in the castle either, the paladins had to make due with an old fashion tea kettle, teapot and mesh filter. It wasn’t the best coffee but, coffee was coffee when none other was around to be choosing from. At first, he had to teach Lance how to make coffee without the machine. After a few tries, he became a natural.

Standing at the back of the sink on the outer side of the island counter, Lance filled the tea kettle. When he finished, Hunk stood at the front to wash his hands so he could check on the tubers. Deciding they were done, he fished them out of the water and back into the bowl with a slotted spoon. He swapped the kettle in Lance’s hands for the bowl and a large fork - again with the missing kitchen utensils! - and instructed, “Mash these up for me?”

“Sure thing.” After all, mashing tubers with a fork wasn’t hard, just took a while. Hunk pulled out a frying pan and a large serving tray after dumping the water in the soup pot into the sink. “What do you plan on doing with the meat?”

“I’m going to sear the surfaces for flavor. They’ll be bland compared to what can be done with added spices but I have no idea how Keith and Pidge would be able to handle them.”

“Pidge refuses to throw up coffee so she might be able to manage some spices. Still, waiting for a later time is probably the best idea.” A few moments of tuber mashing later he added, “Keith would probably eat his meat raw. The guy did eat the fish I caught raw; scales, bones and almost all. He did gut it and take the head off first like a reasonable person.”

“There are few things that I will serve raw and meat is not one of them.” Hunk waved some tongs around. He was about to place the tenders in the hot pan when Lance had made his comment. “The most you’ll get out of me for meat is medium rare.”

“Is that what you’re going to serve then?” Lance asked, focusing on his mashing.

“They’ll taste better that way.” In went one tender.

“Yeah, I don’t think Keith can taste either. Why else would he be able to stomach eating a fish raw?” In went a second tender with a mild complaint.

“Some people actually like the taste of raw fish.” The third one went in hissing vehemently.

“Pass.” There was only room for four.

Lance paused in his mashing to take in a whiff. He concluded that it did not smell like beef and resumed his mashing. Just as he finished the task the kettle began to whistle. “These are done,” he said, setting down the fork. Carefully he retrieved the kettle and moved to the counter where the teapot and coffee grounds were waiting suspended on the opening by the wire mesh. He slowly poured the hot water over the grounds, the aroma of the coffee almost instantly rising into the air. “Won’t be long before Pidge wakes up,” he laughed.

“Will she follow the smell or stay where she is though?” Hunk posed the question as he turned the tenders. “I saw her tucked in. Saw Keith too.”

“Keith sleeps like a soldier and I’m surprised Pidge didn’t budge either,” Lance commented, staring at the coffee grounds as they steeped. Pursing his lips and turning his head so he could see Hunk on the edge of his peripheral vision he said, “Five GAC she stays in bed.”

“It’s a bet!” Hunk laughed, moving the tenders to the serving tray. Placing four more into the pan he asked, “So how long were you awake last night?”

Lance shrugged. “I don’t know. A few vargas. No clock in that room so no way to know for sure.”

“What woke you up?”

“Centaurs aren’t meant to sleep on the floor I guess. I’m only able to get maybe a varga and a half before waking up again for some reason or other. I just can’t find a comfortable position or spot to sleep.”

“Have you tried sleeping standing up? Like horses do?”

“I am not trying that unless I’m absolutely desperate.” He lifted the mesh out of the teapot and dumped the grounds into the organic waste bin. “Besides, that has got to be a lie about horses only able to sleep standing up.”

“What if it’s not?” Hunk was working on the last of the tenders as he asked.

“Well it can’t be true for centaurs. Humans need to sleep on their backs or on their sides to get to the good sleep, the REM sleep. I don’t think horses sleep with their heads up so they are down low, relaxed. I can’t do that with a human spine so there’s got to be some way, some means, for centaurs to sleep that doesn’t involve standing all the time.” Lance plopped the teapot lid on, wincing at the high pitched clink it made indicating that if he had been any more careless it would have chipped or broke completely.

“Well, sleeping on the floor isn’t really the most optimal for humans either but we make do. Besides, maybe Coran or Allura might have some ideas. Have you asked them?” Hunk moved the rest of the tenders to the tray and turned the range off. “Where did that meat thermometer end up at,” he asked himself, looking around at all the drawers and cupboards trying to remember.

“I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t want to bother them with something I thought I could figure out myself,” Lance explained as he gathered some mugs and the cubed sugar for the coffee. Pidge still had yet to make an appearance.

“I don’t think they’d be bothered. They’re affected too, just not to the extent that we have been,” Hunk said as he began to search cupboards and drawers. When he did find it he gave an “Ah-ha!” before setting it on the counter next to the cooked tenders and pulling out a broiling pan on which he stuck four steaks. Continuing the conversation he added, “I think they would both feel appreciated to help in some small matter. Coran did compare us to different aliens species within the first hour so maybe he knows of something that could help?”

Lance was poking his head in the fridge while he answered, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” He frowned at what he couldn’t find. “We don’t have any milk for the coffee.” Shutting the fridge, he sighed. “I should have checked before making coffee. By the time I milk Kaltenecker the coffee is going to be cold.”

“Only iced coffee is acceptable when it comes to cold coffee,” mumbled a voice from the doorway. Both of Voltron’s legs looked in that direction to see Pidge stumbling forward, six of her eight snakes drooping as though they were still asleep. Her gait was slow and irregular, either indicative of her still being mostly asleep or she was having trouble seeing. She did manage a beeline for the teapot though and managed to pour herself a mug.

“You owe me five GAC, Lance,” Hunk snickered. He had somehow placed the steaks in the oven set to broil and finished prepping the mashed tubers, already spooning the mixture into a cleaned frying pan. Lance shook his head, awed at Hunk’s speed in the kitchen when he wasn’t looking and miffed at having lost the bet. Pidge brought him out of his thoughts. “Something’s up with Keith and it’s got Shiro greatly upset. And I mean the ‘overprotective brother who doesn’t know what to do’ type upset.” Pidge sipped her space coffee. “I told him I’d come get one of you because I’m just as clueless.”

“I’ll come with you,” Lance volunteered seeing as Hunk was very preoccupied with finishing cooking breakfast. Thinking of Shiro, he poured another mug of coffee and added a cube of sugar just like Shiro liked it. Well, he usually added milk to it too but being there was no milk, hopefully sugar would suffice. “Lead the way.”

Lance let Pidge drink more of her coffee as they walked before asking, “What happened?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS!  
>  ~~I swear I wrote Lance milking Kaltenecker BEFORE that little clip from NYCC barfed all over tumblr. It was a popular fanon that I love so I nearly died when that clip showed up.~~  
>  END SPOILERS!  
>  
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated.


	9. Adventures in that field Hunk knows all too well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's wrong with Keith?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this chapter to @sickficsideblog. She loves some sick!keith.
> 
> \--edit--  
> The chapter now has some wonderful fanart from the equally wonderful [@artsycarolyn](https://artsycarolyn.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! They have granted me permission to include it in the chapter.

“I’m sure it’s going to be nothing but, I woke up to Shiro calling out Keith’s name. When I was coherent enough to tell the ceiling from the floor and could at least crawl, I found him half on the couch, half on the blanket nest like he had just rolled off it in his sleep.”

“And that was enough to worry him?” Lance was finding it hard not to snicker. But then, with how unpredictable Shiro was being as of late, it likely wouldn’t be too far of a toss for something simple to upset the dragon. Soldier Keith moving in his sleep might be unusual enough for Shiro to concern him.

When they got back to the lounge and flipped the lights on, Shiro’s large dragon head was hovering over the couch, his nose pointed directly into the nest about five feet above Keith making it really difficult to see passed him. So Lance and Pidge had to walk around to the mouth of the nest to find the naga. Whether he truly fell off the couch in his sleep or willingly went down was hard to tell but he was no longer partially on the couch.The manner of which he was coiled, he was both laying on top of the electric blanket and underneath it; his torso was underneath the blanket while parts of his long tail were on top of it. He was coiled in such a way that he essentially looked like a bundle of rope on top of him sunk in the middle, laying on his side, using his tail as a pillow.

“That’s an -I don’t want to get out of bed because it’s cold- display if I’ve ever seen one, which I have, in multiple fashions,” Lance chuckled. Shiro didn’t look convinced though so Lance asked for the second time in less than fifteen minutes, “What happened?”, a serious expression replacing his smile.

“He started to moan quietly before he rolled and fell off the couch. I think something is hurting him,” Shiro mumbled, though how the dragon could mumble blew Lance’s mind since he still had yet to figure out how Shiro could talk without moving his jaw or having lips. Ventriloquism maybe? It definitely wasn’t telepathy; well, Lance was pretty sure it wasn’t telepathy.

“Being cold would make anyone uncomfortable.” Lance set Shiro’s coffee on the table. “I brought you space coffee. Hunk is almost done with breakfast.” Touching Shiro’s massive scaled cheek, Lance gave him a shove, more indicative that Shiro needed to move aside than really expecting his tiny little muscles being able to budge the dragon. “Out of the way for a minute, I have an idea.” Reluctantly Shiro pulled away, though just enough that Lance had some comfortable headroom. 

Surveying how Keith was laying, Lance determined that the dumb naga was on top of the control panel; great. And the location of that one corner with the panel on it is of course underneath Keith’s main torso because the blanket was wrapped around his front and under his side; fantastic. “You better not be one of those types that get violent when touched in their sleep,” he muttered to Keith.

His first attempt to get at the control panel was to kneel down and reach it by going between Keith’s tail and the nest blankets; he couldn’t get his hand through. So he modified that idea slightly and tried to go between the coils of Keith’s tail. This got Keith to twitch and pull away when Lance got his fingers wedged in between, as well as a warning hiss from Keith. Undaunted, Lance tried to slide his hand through even further causing Keith to hiss louder and clamp down tightly, almost getting Lance’s hand stuck. He was able to pull free, shaking his hand and rotating his wrist as he glared at the red naga. “Why are you being so difficult?” he asked Keith.

“Maybe you should leave him alone? What are you even trying to do?” Pidge asked, sipping her coffee. She was near the table, observing.

“Get to the control panel of the electric blanket Keith’s wrapped in to increase the temperature a bit. He’s laying on top of it.”

“No man’s land,” Pidge muttered around the lip of her mug, stone-faced.

Lance got to his hooves for one final attempt. Bending over the top of the coil so he could reach inside, he tried to tug the blanket corner free from under Keith’s hip. Keith’s eyes snapped open, viper slits breaking his violet irises, and went after Lance’s arm, mouth wide open. Lance snapped his arm away, using his other hand on Keith’s crown to keep him at bay, his leverage just enough to enable him to shove Keith’s head back down where he struggled to keep it there. Keith hissed fervently, starting to uncoil, the blankets around his torso coming loose and sliding down, exposing how his arms were crossed tightly over his abdomen. He leaned left and right, trying to break free from the weight of Lance, who was keeping him subdued with both hands now. “Pidge! A little help here!” Lance called over his shoulder. Keith shoved upwards causing Lance to lurch to the side. “Stop trying to bite me! Chowderhead!”

Pidge slammed her mug onto the table, rushing forward into the nest. She was too short to be able to reach down over Keith’s tail though. “What do you want me to do?!” she asked, hands open and waving in front of her, looking for a task.

“Do you have your bayard?”

“No, why would I?”

“How long will it take you to get it?” Lance grunted, shoving harder against a struggling Keith.

“Too long. Lance, pull away!” Shiro commanded. Lance looked up just in time to see Shiro’s enormous dragon foot hovering above him. In a split second, he backed off and Shiro caged Keith beneath his claws. The naga hissed long and loud, the muscles of his tail undulating as he registered what was happening underneath Shiro’s capture.

“Well, that was a thing,” Lance huffed, breathing heavily, his veins pulsing with adrenaline and arms slack at his sides. All of Pidge’s snakes were moving and alert. “What do we do now? You’re not squashing him, are you?” she asked, pointing; the end result of stopping herself from poking through the dragon claws at the angry thing behind them.

“No, I’m cupping my hand over him. And he’s settled back down. Lance, did you happen to see anything?”

Lance shuddered, collecting himself. “His eyes were freaky, definitely more reptilian. And I think I know what the problem is; it’s something he ate.”

“There’s no talking to him right now. I doubt he will know what we’re saying to him,” Pidge said, arms folded, weight on one leg, opposite hip out. “Suggestions?”

“Leave him alone and let him come to like a normal person?” Lance offered, his open hands to his sides, elbows bent, shrugging. Shiro didn’t look convinced. So Lance folded his arms and cocked his head at the dragon, eyebrow raised. “Look, it’s obvious he’s not home in the head right now. Let’s throw a blanket over him, see if the extra warmth will wake him up to a degree where he’s more civil and then we’ll talk to him, see if he’s willing to divulge his problems.”

Pidge retrieved her mug, mourning at the spills on the table surface. “Grab the blankets I was using. Both of them should suffice.”

Shiro moved, the muscles in his mighty neck flexing beneath the black scales. Gingerly, he nipped both blankets between his front teeth and brought them over to the nest, dropping them between his foot and Lance. “I think he’s gone back to sleep but, be careful,” he said before slowly pulling his foot away. Lance dared to peek before throwing comforters. Inside, Keith had laid back down on his tail, arms still across his abdomen, eyes closed and a pained expression furrowing his brow and tightening his lips. The electric blanket and the one from his room lay bunched up at his hip, unable to perform their job. Lance was so tempted to reach in and adjust them but he didn’t want another fight with Keith. Pulling back, he flung the first comforter high above the naga, letting physics spread it out wide before draping it over him. Lance had purposely positioned it so that only half of the naga would be covered by the blanket. The second one easily covered the remaining. The three paladins waited for any signs of a reaction. After several moments, Shiro placed his foot back down in front of himself, his head raised high above the other two.

“Let’s take turns getting breakfast,” Pidge offered. “That way someone will be here to watch over Keith.”

“Good idea. Shiro, you and Pidge go first. If it makes you feel any better you can come back here after grabbing a plate.”

Pidge nodded. Shiro thought for a few moments before nodding. “Alright.” Shiro then closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath and confusing Lance and Pidge. Mere seconds later it seemed like the light and atmosphere around Shiro was getting hazy, then quickly foggy, and from there, it seemed like he was diffusing into black clouds that were in the rough shape of a dragon before a silent invisible gust swept them away in a rising arc, leaving half human Shiro standing where dragon Shiro’s front feet had been resting just barely a minute before.

Lance rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Taking a second look, he confirmed that it was bipedal Shiro in the room now; exposed shins, dragon feet, dragon tail, dragon wings, dragon horns and human everything else. “That, was weird,” he commented slowly as Shiro walked around the couch to the table to pick up the coffee that Lance brought him. Taking a sip, he grimaced and looked at the centaur, eyebrow raised. Lance rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry, there wasn’t any milk.”

“Can’t be helped then,” Shiro shrugged, taking another sip before deciding, nope, he didn’t want anymore. Twisting around on the ball of his foot, he and Pidge leave the room, the click-click of Shiro’s long claws following them out the door and down the hallway.

Lance dropped his hand and stared at the mess of the nest he was standing in, accompanied by a really weird, makeshift blanket fort with only one opening that only allowed one occupant and he was cranky as ever. Scrubbing his bowed head with both hands, Lance decided to at least put the cushions back on the couch. There were two close to Keith so he left those for last, deciding the moment he went to reach for them and heard Keith grunt softly and then hiss, that they could wait until after the angry snake officially decided to wake up. Though the sound of that grunt was on the octave of discomfort instead of a warning, and it furrowed Lance’s brow with concern. “You had better not decide to be sick on yourself under there, you hear me,” he chided softly. Bending over, he picked up Hunk’s discarded blanket and folded it. Draping it over the back of the couch, he realized that he had run out of things to busy himself with. Sighing, he plopped himself down in the nest up against the front of the couch opposite the blanket fort, noting the ever so minuscule movement of the parts of Keith’s red tail peeking out from under the blankets as Keith breathed.  


* * *

Hunk could hear Shiro’s claws on the hallway floor a few minutes before the half-dragon could be seen in the entryway. “Morning, Shiro,” he called over his shoulder, occupied with tuber cakes and slicing fruit.

“Morning, Hunk,” Shiro answered, heading for the sugar dish. He plunked two more cubes of sugar into his warm coffee, grabbed a spork from the counter and made himself busy. Pidge poured herself another mug, either unaware or undaunted by Shiro’s raised eyebrow.

“Breakfast for the two of you is done. You want to eat at the table or back in the lounge?”

“I’d like to head back if that’s alright. Keith isn’t doing well and I want to be there when he wakes up.”

Hunk slid a pile of sliced fruit into a bowl. “What’s up?” He turned to face Shiro, giving him his full attention. 

“According to Lance, it’s something he ate yesterday that’s bothering him. We tried to help but, he’s gone defensive and I dare say feral in that regard.” Shiro stopped stirring and sipped his coffee, pulling an even worse face than the one he had given Lance; there was no salvaging the space coffee.

“The scent of food might actually make it worse then if you think about it,” Hunk replied, resuming slicing more fruit. There was a mix of what looked like apples and peaches in the bowl, but the colors were wrong. Shiro also noted some nuts in the bottom as he approached the opposite side of the counter, his intent to dump the ruined coffee down the sink. “When you’re sick to your stomach, the last thing you want to think about or even be around is food, am I right?”

“For most, I would say the answer is yes,” Shiro confirmed.

“I understand your concern, Shiro. But, you need to take care of yourself just as much as the rest of us. So how about you and Pidge enjoy breakfast at the table.” Hunk finished with the fruit bowl, flipped the last of the tuber cakes and started plating Shiro’s and Pidge’s breakfast. Shiro rinsed his mug and left it in the sink.

“Lance is still with Keith,” Pidge commented.

“I’ll switch places with him then. I’ll eat breakfast with Keith when he wakes up if he feels up to it. So don’t fuss over me.” He handed each their respective plates. Shiro gawked at the amount of food on his. “I know it looks like a lot, Shiro. But, try and eat it all. I’m sure you’ll surprise yourself when you do.” Hunk gave him an endearing, big, toothy smile.

“Uh, thanks, Hunk. It looks good.” There was almost two pounds of meat on his plate, plus a tuber cake. His eyebrows were close to touching as he left the kitchen with a hesitant smile. Pidge snickered around her coffee, accepting her plate of tenders. “Lay off the space coffee, Pidge.” Hunk warned.

“Relax. I spilled half of my first mug in the lounge.”

“I’ll be sure to bring something to clean up your mess then.”

“Hey! I was trying to be helpful in a time of crisis!” Pidge defended, sticking out her bluish-grey tongue. Hunk retaliated by sticking his pink one out back at her. A moment later found them both chuckling and him waving her off to eat.

Turning off the range, he plated four tuber cakes and put a generous amount of the sliced fruit and nuts into a single service bowl, setting both on a serving tray along with a spork, a mug of coffee and four sugar cubes for Lance. This he carried out to the table and set at Lance’s place where the chair had been pulled away in accommodation. To his pleasure he saw that Shiro had gone through one steak and was working on the tuber cake, talking with Pidge about her latest side project.

He returned to the kitchen and covered the remaining tuber cakes and tenders so they stayed warm. He left the dishes to wash later, instead picking up some cleaning spray and towel from a cleaning supply closet at the corner of the kitchen furthest from the counters and range and headed to relieve Lance.

He found the centaur leaning up against the front of the couch, arms out and resting on the cushions, his front legs tucked while his back legs stuck out. And he deduced that Keith must be under the blanket fort which is off center of the nest, opposite of the lounging Lance. “How’s he doing?” he asked as means to announce himself.

“Can’t say. He’s not raging angry anymore but, no clue about his condition.” Lance thrummed the fingers of his right hand on the cushion. Hunk made his way to the table to clean up the spilled coffee. “Are Shiro and Pidge coming back?”

Hunk shook his head. “They’re eating at the table. If Keith’s stomach is bothering him that much, the smell of food is likely going to make it worse.” Lance nodded but said nothing. “I told them I would stay with Keith so you can go and eat. I’ve already set your breakfast at your seat at the table. There’s more in the kitchen if you’re still hungry.”

Lance got to his hooves with a grunt. “Thanks buddy.” Curiosity got the better of him before he made to step out of the nest. Carefully, he lifted one of the edges of the comforters at the point where it was draped over the opening of Keith’s self-nest, lifting it just enough so a beam of light could break through. Peeking in with one eye, he found Keith had pulled the electric blanket back over himself, up to his chin, and was holding it there with one hand, the other arm likely still wrapped around his middle. He looked better but, there was still that air of unwell about his complexion. “Well, he’s covered back up for warmth. He just might wake up that much sooner,” he stated quietly, slowly lowering the edge before letting it drop.

Hunk poured himself some water and drank a bit, holding the mug out at arm’s length after a mouthful to glare with much disdain at the tepid taste. He abandoned the mug on the table, along with the used towel and cleaning spray, and took up a seat close to Keith but, not close enough to potentially spook him. Lance stepped lightly out of the nest and made for the hallway. “I’ll be back as soon as I’m finished,” he promised.

Hunk waved him down. “Don’t worry about it. Go milk Kaltenecker after you’re done. She would love to spend some time with you I’m sure.”

Lance looked away, a thoughtful pout on his lips. “Yeah, I think I’ll do that. I leave Keith in your capable hands then, Hunk. And thanks for breakfast.” He gave the troll a thumbs up as he left. Hunk smiled softly, his eyes looking about the room for anything of interest. He didn’t mind the quiet; life didn’t always need to be filled with having something to do during all waking hours. Time to sit back and do nothing was equally important.

A small sense of an echo of thought tapped lightly on the back of his mind. He knew this feeling and smiled contentedly; Yellow. Yellow was wondering what he had been up to. In all the chaos of their transformations, Hunk had yet to visit his lion. Sending feelings of remorse, he started from the beginning as he told his lion about the last five days.  


* * *

Keith came to consciousness to the feeling of a ball of clay in his belly. That feeling had invaded his dreams and while he didn’t remember them exactly, he remembered he was fighting and finding it increasingly more difficult to fight as his body slowly hunched in on itself and turned to lead. Blissfully, he had slipped from the realm of the dream into the world of the lucid on a gentle wave and not a lurching halt.

Groaning, he opened his eyes to almost total darkness aside from slivers of light slicing through the black wall in front of him. He flicked his tongue a few times, registering that it was his tail that was in front of him, surrounding him even. He supposed he must have coiled up in such a way as a defensive gesture as he pushed himself off the floor with one arm, the one not holding his abdomen. The movement made him nauseous and his head swim. It also reverberated down the length of his tail making it shift, causing the canopy of blankets above him to droop down, letting light in from above. He could then hear the soft sounds of Hunk humming a tune he was not familiar with. Pushing himself up more so that he was sitting on the dorsal side of his tail, the only part that would bend in such a way is just a small part below his pelvis, he pushed at the blankets above him until he successfully knocked them off. A wave of cold embraced him the moment they cleared and he shivered, grabbing the electric blanket and momentarily releasing pressure on his stomach to enable himself to wrap the blanket around his back so he could hold it closed in front of him with one hand, his other arm immediately going back to applying pressure.

Hunk’s humming stopped. “Keith, you awake?”

“Yeah,” Keith answered, his voice dry and pasty. He sucked on his tongue to try and coax more saliva to wet his throat to no avail. Sighing, he worked on unburying himself from underneath himself, his tail stretching out in front of him as it uncoiled, until it circles him in a wide manner, pressing up against the front of the couch in parts and taking up space in the nest otherwise. Hunk’s face slowly came into view and his expression was one of deep concern. “How are you feeling? Lance said you weren’t well.”

Keith didn’t want to say anything at first but, it was obvious to him in only a moment that he wouldn’t be able to hide anything from gentle Hunk. “Last night’s meal isn’t settling well,” he simply said, wincing as his stomach cramped hard.

“How so? Describe it to me,” Hunk was leaning forward on the couch, supporting his weight with elbows on knees, hands hanging in the empty space between them.

“It’s like… it’s like there’s a mass of mud or clay just sitting there. I feel… kind of like I’ve eaten too much. But, I was fine when I went to sleep last night.” He wasn’t aware of it, but Keith started to hunch over, subconsciously trying to ease the discomfort his belly was throwing at him.

“Stop that, it’s just going to make it worse,” Hunk admonished. Kneeling next to Keith, he firmly but gently coaxed his friend back upright by putting his big hands on the naga’s tiny shoulders. He could feel Keith trying to protest and the strength to do so slowly giving out. “Don’t encourage your stomach to clench up. Try and encourage it to stretch and move,” he explained. Keith nodded, wincing at the tension in his abdomen. Hunk moved behind him and sat behind him, mindful of his tail, pulling Keith back to lean up against his chest as he spread his legs to either side of him. Keith obliged, slowly guided by Hunk’s hands to rest his head on Hunk’s shoulder, his breath hitching as he went back. “Relax as best you can, it’ll help.” 

They stayed that way for several minutes, Hunk breathing deeply and getting Keith to match him. But, Keith’s arm still pressed against his belly and Hunk could feel some of the muscles in Keith’s lower back refuse to relax. “Feeling any better?”

“Not really.”

“Then let’s try something else. Come with me to the med bay and see if we can’t find you a hot water bottle or heating pad.” Hunk didn’t push against Keith, instead, he left the choice of how fast to move up to him. Trying not to groan, Keith sat up. He paused a moment as Hunk moved away, twisted so that he was on his ventral side of his tail and rose to his normal height, his nightshirt sliding down to full length, having bunched up while he slept. He was sluggish but, Hunk was patient.

Without saying anything the two left the room, Keith holding the electric blanket tighter around himself as if it were storming around him instead of an empty castle hallway. His eyes were downcast, his tongue flicking out about every half minute or so, he swayed a bit as he moved, all signs of lethargy. Hunk wondered if Keith was still too cold to function optimally. If so, a source of heat might be just the thing.

In the med bay, Keith made himself as comfortable as possible on a low stool, coiling his tail around the four legs while Hunk flipped the lights on and immediately searched cupboards and cabinets for his quarry. Keith wanted to help but, with the way he was feeling he was sure he would be more of a hindrance than an assistant. He started to hunch over again which immediately caught Hunks’ attention. Postponing his search, Hunk put his hands on Keith’s shoulders. “How about you move to one of the chairs, hm? You can recline in them and rest while I look.”

“Sounds good,” Keith mumbled, sliding off the stool into Hunk. Arm around his shoulders, Hunk guided Keith to one of five available chairs in the annexed room, his tail inadvertently taking the stool with him a tad as it uncoiled from around it. These chairs were like the basic lazy boy, just without the plush padding. Using a control dial, the legs of the occupant could be elevated. Or the back alone could be angled back, allowing said occupant to recline comfortably. Keith slid into the chair from the side, twisting at the waist to lay back on the chair, his lids drooping. Hunk lifted Keith’s tail and moved it so it lay in front of the chair, using the control dial to tilt the head back and raise the front slightly, although because of its length, Keith’s tail still hung off the edge and lay to the side of the chair. Hunk noticed the control panel of the blanket while adjusting the chair and berated himself for not doing so earlier. Examining it, he increased the temperature a level before resuming his search.

Several minutes into his search, Hunk decided he needed to become more familiar with the layout of the med bay in the future before finally finding a rubber hot water bottle. He thought to himself that such things needed to be made available in other parts of the castle, not just the med bay. Thankful again for Altean plumbing, he filled the bottle with water that was hot enough to heat the rubber and still retain some heat for a while, sealed it and returned to Keith. The red paladin’s arm was still pressed against his abdomen; his other hand lay neutral at his side. “Okay, Keith. You need to move your arm for a tic,” Hunk soothed, reaching for the arm. Keith resisted, a truncated moan escaping his control. So Hunk tried a different tactic. Moving the blanket aside, he placed the rubber bottle to the side of Keith’s arm for a moment, letting the heat penetrate the shirt and do the talking. Gradually he was able to slide Keith’s stubborn arm away enough to properly place the bottle, lifting the arm to rest over the top of the bottle to hold it in place if Keith felt so inclined to keep it there. He tucked the blanket closed again and sat on the opposing chair to wait. It was obvious in a short handful of minutes that Keith was relishing the added heat. “Better?” Hunk queried.

Keith hummed tiredly before answering verbally, “Yeah.” A few minutes passed and then he added, “It doesn’t hurt as much. Feels… feels not as hard, not as tight.”

“Good, good.”

Nine or ten minutes later, Keith pushed himself upright with both hands, the bottle sliding down into his lap and the blanket falling off his shoulders. Grabbing the bottle, he held it against his abdomen with both arms, hunched over slightly with a distant look on his face. He swallowed once, licked his lips and swallowed again. “Keith?” He pressed a fist to his lips and swallowed a third time. Hunk witnessed the slight lurch from Keith’s stomach tensing. “Do you feel like you need to throw up?” Hunk leaned forward in his chair, ready to grab for the nearest waste bin.

“No,” Keith mumbled, swallowing again. He raised his head and was about to say something additional when a loud, punctuated belch broke free. His face turned red enough to compete with the reddest of his scales and he immediately covered it with both hands, hunching over on bent elbows, rubber bottle forgotten.

Hunk’s response was to place his large hand on Keith’s back and rub up and down. “It’s okay. You probably feel even better now, am I right?” Keith just nodded. Hunk continued rubbing. “If you’ve got any more in there, better get rid of it. Don’t swallow it back down like you just tried to.”

Keith dragged his hands down his face and let his arms fall into his lap, his cheeks still a deep red that reached back to his ears. “Sorry,” he mumbled. And then his fist was up against his mouth again, accompanied by a pained furrowed brow as he swallowed hard. Hunk frowned at him and when Keith saw it from the corner of his vision he was quick to explain, “Heartburn.”

“Lay back and rest some more,” Hunk suggested, pulling the blanket back up over Keith’s shoulders. Keith grabbed the bottle again and complied, fumbling with it to get it positioned just right before laying both arms over the top of it, breathing deeply and sighing. The blush on his face stuck around for a while, its redness outdone by the scale freckles under his eyes.

Another twenty minutes came and went, interrupted by quiet burps from Keith, some which he had to sit upright to let clear. All of them he muffled behind a fist, afraid to let a loud one burst free again. His blush only dissipated when he felt his stomach ease up and relax, about the same time as the heat from the rubber bottle faded the second time around; Hunk refreshed it shortly after telling him to get more rest. He was beginning to feel more energized as well and it was obvious to Hunk. Sliding the bottle onto the chair and moving so that his tail was on the side of it, supporting his weight on his locked arms on either side as the electric blanket crumpled behind him, he gently locked gazes with Hunk. “Thanks, I mean it.”

Hunk stood, dusting his pajamas. “No problem, Keith. I’m just glad I could help. Feel up for some breakfast?” Keith shook his head, “Not now. I’ll eat later. I’m game for a drink of water though.” He slid off the chair, twisting to grab the blanket and wrap it around himself again. “Where did this come from?” he asked, lifting the blanket to indicated what he was referring to.

“I think Lance found it sometime during the night.”

“Oh.” Keith reached for the rubber bottle and offered it to Hunk who refused with an upright hand. “Keep it in your room. I have a feeling you’ll be needing it again before this whole ordeal is over.”

“Okay.” Keith tucked the bottle under the blanket so he could fold his arms, keeping the blanket closed. “Are you still cold?” Hunk asked as they left the med bay, Hunk remembering to flip the lights off.

“Not really, but the extra heat is... soothing,” Keith tried to explain, giving a slight pout that said the word he picked wasn’t exactly the right fit. “I can’t explain it aside from it feels good.”

“That’s enough for me for the time being.”

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Probably done eating breakfast and doing their own thing. I volunteered to stay with you and eat later.”

“I’m sorry.”

Hunk waved him off. “Don’t be, I wanted to do it.” He then switched to rubbing the back of his head. “Besides, I know a thing or two about upset stomachs.”

That got Keith to chuckle, “Yeah, I bet you do.”

They drifted into a comfortable quietness as they walked, or in Keith’s case, slithered, to the kitchen. While Hunk worked on plating breakfast for himself, Keith helped himself to a glass of water which he quickly downed and went for seconds. “Careful, you might upset your stomach again.” Keith nodded, holding the glass close with one hand and the blanket closed with the other. The rubber bottle he had set on the counter near the sink to be emptied. Hunk pointed to a plate of meat tenders that he had covered. “This is for you when you feel up to eating again.”

“Okay.” Keith sipped his water and made for the dining hall. Hunk followed with his plate of tuber cakes and a bowl of fruit, spork tucked into his hand between flesh and plate.

Allura was the only one to meet them at the table, calmly eating a plate of food goo. Hunk looked apologetic at her. “Sorry, princess. Some of us ate without you. It was a crazy, irregular morning.”

“That’s quite alright, Hunk. I realize there are some circumstances that we all still have yet to become adjusted to,” she smiled.

“There’s still some sliced fruit in the kitchen that I can get for you if you would like,” Hunk offered as he set his load down. “That would be great, Hunk,” Allura smiled again. Keith slid into his chair, moving his tail under the table and placing his glass on its surface while Hunk hurried to follow through with his offer. “Are you not going to eat, Keith?”

Keith looked apologetic, tugging on his blanket. “Not feeling up to it for the time being. It’s been a rough morning.”

“Are you unwell?” She leaned forward.

“I’ll be fine in a varga or two.”

Allura relaxed. “If you are sure. Please do tell us if you don’t recover as you say. It is imperative you maintain your health as best you can since unfortunately, we can’t place you in a pod as you are.” Keith nodded. Before the atmosphere turned awkward, Hunk returned. He politely set a small bowl of fruit behind and to the side of the plate in front of Allura before claiming his own seat to start eating. Allura let him eat for several minutes before attempting polite conversation. “What do you have planned for today’s activities?”

Keith had no immediate answer so he was grateful that Hunk did. “Lance and I agreed this morning that we need to try to get Shiro more accustomed to his new self. How we’re going to do that has yet to be determined.”

An idea occurred to Keith. “We need to compile some sort of data about what we’ve learned about ourselves since the transformation. Also including what we collectively know about each myth that pertains to each of us individually will likely give us characteristics to look out for and potentially utilize in a future battle with the galra, or any other enemy we might encounter.”

“And the exact opposite, potential weaknesses that will leave us wide open to the galra,” Hunk added, pointing at Keith with his spork.

“A fine idea. I would like to know, do you plan on gathering anything more from this area? Coran tells me that there is a massive storm approaching.”

Hunk pursed his lips. Keith spoke first. “Then we should relocate. I’m pretty sure Lance and I scared off the game around here yesterday anyways. Aside from the river, there’s likely nothing in close proximity to hunt anymore.”

“Or we could spend the time collecting data like you first said,” Hunk countered. “What do you think, princess?”

“The castle won’t be harmed by the storm so perhaps it is a good opportunity to gather together some information. Coran predicts the storm will last about five vargas.”

“Shiro’s the leader, we should let him decide,” Keith voiced, taking a drink from his glass. Hunk nodded his agreement.

“I believe he’s back in the lounge with Pidge,” Allura supplied.

“Or maybe he’s wandering the halls looking for you,” Hunk added, looking at Keith. “We didn’t exactly leave a note and he was quite concerned, so much in fact that he didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

“He worries too much.” Nevertheless, Keith got up from his chair, grabbed his empty glass and headed back towards the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Hunk asked.

“Getting more water, then I’m going to Shiro so he can relax.”

Hunk shrugged and turned to Allura. “Looks like it’s just you and me.” The solemnity was intruded upon by four voices squeaking. Allura looked down at her lap to find her four mice asking permission to be on the table to eat with her. She chuckled and lifted them up. “Of course you can eat with us.” Squeaking happily, two mice went for Allura’s fruit bowl, one went for her food goo, and the last one approached Hunk, pointing at his tuber cake. He laughed and tore off a bit, offering it to the mouse who grabbed it with his tiny paws and instantly nibbled it.

The remainder of breakfast was accompanied by light conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait for this chapter. Season 4 had me all tied up, before and after. And then coming off of that high/hangover took forever. Plus RL is really being mean for the time being. But, enough with excuses.
> 
> Thank you all so much for the continued comments and kudos! And for the new followers on my tumblr @bucketoffudgeinamuffin. I've got 18/20 followers, so close to the finish line for a promised fanart from the story. Also, I post teasers from upcoming chapters over there that are raw content and don't always make it in the final edit. It's also open for questions about the story.
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated.
> 
> \--edit--  
> I've gone back and edited chapter 1, adding some dialogue and information that will tie into the upcoming chapter. No need to go reread it if you don't want to.  
> ALSO! I have my first fanart for the story! Done by the wonderful @solace-and-shadow over on [ tumblr. ](https://bucketoffudgeinamuffin.tumblr.com/post/166715688656/solace-and-shadow-fanart)
> 
> Thanks again @artsycarolyn for the art!


	10. Adventures in adjusting; take one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith finds Shiro. They go for a swim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are not in the know, chapter one has been 'remodeled' with added dialogue and some edits. You do not need to reread it to understand future chapters.  
> I also edited the intro summary of the story so that it's hopefully more enticing.
> 
> This chapter is unbetaed.

After downing half a glass of water and leaving the glass in the sink, and then entering the hallway heading towards the lounge, Keith considered stopping off at his room to change before meeting up with Shiro; he wasn’t one to stay in loungewear longer than necessary; he wasn’t one to own loungewear, to be honest. Besides, seeing him in his regular shirt and jacket would convey to Shiro that he was fine. So he diverted to the paladin rooms to change. In his nearly empty one, Keith found his trademark black shirt and jacket folded neatly on his bed. Shucking the blanket and the nightshirt, he quickly donned the black one, grabbing his belt from the foot of the bed where he had left it the night before and buckling it on, feeling a sense of relief to have his knife back on his person. His rider gloves were still in one of the belt pouches; those went on just as quick. He debated putting the jacket on though, switching between looking at it and the blue blanket next to it draped on the bed. Shrugging, he grabbed the jacket, whipped it on and then the blanket, wrapping himself back up in it before heading out to find Shiro.

Finding him was easier a task than finding other people because he was a creature of habit. It still remained though, that easier did not exactly mean fast. For instance, if he was power walking through the hallways of the castle, especially familiar hallways, it would still take awhile to find him, even when ideally staying in one place and letting him come to you. Other times it was easier to find him because he was in the training room or on the bridge, two of his favorite haunts. His third favorite haunt would be the Black Lion’s hangar and the fourth would be the star observation deck, or ‘star room’ because it had a large glass convex window that opened out to the outside world.

If roles were reversed, Shiro would likely find Keith in the training room becoming more accustomed to his new body. However, Shiro had been showing major reluctance in getting to know himself again so the training room wouldn’t be likely; Keith knocked that search location down a couple pegs. The Black Lion was his next guess, but then he figured, along the same lines as why Shiro wouldn’t be in the training room, he wouldn’t be there out of guilt and most likely shame. So that left the bridge and the star room. The bridge was closer, so that’s where he headed first.

When the doors slid open, the only person Keith found was Coran who was studying something on his control panel. He looked up, having heard someone enter. “Ah, Number 4. What brings you here?”

“Have you seen Shiro?”

Coran’s arms went behind the small of his back. “He hasn’t been here if that’s what you’re asking.”

Keith nodded. “Yeah,” his eyes downcast for a few moments. “Thanks.”

“I could call him for you.”

Poking an arm out from the blanket, Keith waved him off. “Don’t. It’s not urgent. I have another idea of where he might be so I’ll just go there.”

Coran shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Tucking his arm back under the blanket, Keith turned to leave when Coran stalled him. “Are you having trouble keeping warm?”

Without twisting to look at Coran, he replied, “No.” Keith wasn’t exactly lying, but it wasn’t the complete truth. The duality of it was made evident by the tone of his voice.

Coran shook his head. “You should tell the others. Numbers 2 and 5 would jump at a challenge like helping you maintain a constant temperature.” He pulled at his mustache.

“Sure. I really need to find Shiro though. Later.” He quickly slithered out the door before Coran could stall him again.

Whatever thoughts were roaming through his head, they were truncated and tossed aside at the elevator that ran from the floor to the paladin rooms to the lower levels of the castle, when the doors opened and revealed a disheveled Lance. At his raised eyebrow and pursed lips, Lance was quick to explain. “Kaltenecker is not in a happy mood right now.” He tried to put his hands in pockets that weren’t there and sighed when his hands slid down the sides of his nightshirt. “If anyone asks, I’m in my room.” With his head bowed and arms loose, he clopped off, each step seemingly heavy with depression or some other weighted emotion. Keith was at a loss for how to respond. Pout still on his lips, he moved into the elevator, his tail nearly taking up all the floor space.

The level with the star room was below the one with the paladin rooms, which were close to the bridge for quicker access to and from, and access to the lions’ hangars. The kitchen and dining hall were on a lower level, and the training room on a different level still. For safety measures, there were stairs for emergencies. There were other rooms on the star room level of which Keith didn’t know their purpose and he wasn’t curious enough to be a snoop. They were probably locked anyway.

The star room was a larger than an average room when it came to floor space. But because of the tilted convex window, the squarespace was cut by a quarter. The walls were mostly bare except for two light crystals on adjacent sides of the entryway. Out the window expanded an overcast sky foretelling coming rain. Close to it was a recess in the floor just deep enough for two steps down. Sitting on the top step with his tail lying perpendicular to his back and wings tucked in tightly, was Shiro.

“I thought I would find you here,” Keith spoke up softly to announce his presence. Shiro twisted, supporting himself with his flesh arm and looked over his shoulder, wings drooping down out of his line of vision. He smiled faintly, though the smile didn’t reach his tired eyes. It was obvious there was a lot on his mind and getting him to divulge it wasn’t going to be easy or quick. “Keith, it’s good to see you up and about.”

“You worry too much,” Keith answered, his black tongue flicking out a few times as he slithered up to Shiro’s left side and lowered himself down as though he were sitting. Letting the blanket fall open and just rest on his shoulders, Keith laid a gloved hand on Shiro’s left shoulder. “Want to talk?” he asked, gathering up his tail so that the majority of it draped down the steps and lay in front of Shiro’s claws. It looked uncomfortable but it really wasn’t. Shiro folded his arms, not one to lean forward and appear weak. “I would think I’m justified in my worrying. You tried to bite Lance.”

Keith’s eyes went wide, “I did? When?”

“While you were asleep. Some sort of instinctual defensive response because you were in pain.” Shiro’s brow was furrowed in concern. Keith looked away. “I’ll apologize to him later.”

“You’re not hurting anymore, are you?”

“I’m fine.” When Keith looked back at Shiro, there was an expectant look on the half-dragon’s face. “I was just too cold and it was just air. Comes with being a reptile I guess. Hunk helped me get rid of it with a hot water bottle.”

Shiro half grinned mischievously. “Was he around when you did?”

Keith flushed lightly. “It doesn’t matter. The point is that it’s gone and I’m fine.”

“And the blanket?”

“It’s soothing, the extra heat. I’m not cold.”

“So you say.”

“Enough about me.” Keith squeezed Shiro’s shoulder once before letting go and folding his arms. “Something's obviously bothering you. You can tell me; let me help.”

Shiro was the one to look away. “I’m… I’m not adjusting well. It feels too much like my time with the galra. I’m a prisoner of this new body; a prisoner of these strong instincts.”

“Instincts aren’t bad, Shiro. Inconvenient at times, sure, but not bad. Instinct helps us fight, helps us protect each other, helps us survive. You wouldn’t have survived the galra if you hadn’t listened to yours while their prisoner. I probably wouldn’t have found you had I not listened to mine.” Keith paused briefly, huffing mirthfully. “We probably wouldn’t be pilots who crushed the simulator without listening to instinct either.”

Shiro huffed a tired laugh at that. “Probably not.”

“That’s not all of it though,” Keith prompted.

Shiro did not speak for several moments, his normally stoic demeanor given away by the twitching of the tip of his tail that caught Keith’s attention from his peripheral vision. He didn’t mention it to Shiro though because he knew it would crush him, the further lack of control over himself. So he waited patiently for his mentor, his friend, to collect his thoughts. “Am I less human?” he finally voiced.

“No less human than when you left for Kerberos.” Keith looked out the window just in time to catch a lightning strike.

“That time when we held Sendak prisoner, I heard him call me a monster; a weapon.”

Keith placed his hand on Shiro’s shoulder again. “You’re not a monster because you’re temporarily a dragon, Shiro. Get that idea out of your head.” When Shiro was about to protest, Keith cut him off. “You’re the one that taught me that dragons can be benevolent beings. Think of yourself as one.”

“I look nothing like an Asian dragon.”

“And you don’t have to. Be who you want to be, not what someone else wants you to be.”

“Now you’re just regurgitating advice I gave you back at the Garrison.” 

Keith grinned. “It’s good advice.”

“You seem to be adjusting quickly.” He noticed Keith’s flicking tongue, which had been flicking in and out intermittently during the quiet moments. Keith didn’t seem phased by it if he was even aware.

Keith shrugged. “After experiencing change so much, I’ve learned to go with the flow. Besides, the quicker I learn this new body, the quicker I can get back to fighting the galra and protecting the team.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Keith’s hand eventually leaving Shiro’s shoulder again so he could fold his arms. Shiro relaxed enough to lean back onto his hands, his tail curling around to rest in his lap.

“Did you eat breakfast?” Shiro asked, eyebrow raised. 

“I’ll eat later. I wanted to find you first, let you know I was okay.” Keith looked at Shiro. “You?”

“Hunk gave me enough meat to feed four or five men. He encouraged me to eat it all and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“Did you?”

“Surprisingly, yes. And I feel fine, perhaps going as far as feeling content. I don’t feel like I’ve overeaten or anything like that.”

“That might explain something.” Keith wrapped a finger around his chin, looking down at Shiro’s claws in thought.

“Explain what?” Shiro sat up straight.

“You’re not as cold to the touch.” Keith looked back up, brow furrowed. “I don’t know if they’re connected though.”

“I hadn’t even noticed.” Shiro looked at his gloved hands, turning them over and back several times.

“I didn’t at first either, being more concerned about how you were mentally. But the second time I touched you, I noticed that while you are still cold, you don’t have that bitter arctic temperature anymore.”

Shiro grasped his left shoulder as if he could feel the temperature difference himself, forgetting his prosthetic hand. “I wonder why that is.”

Keith rose to standard height. “We need to find out, along with other matters concerning what we are. Feel up to meeting with the others?”

Shiro got to his feet, towering over Keith. “Let’s go. You’re right about one thing, the sooner we figure things out, the better prepared we’ll be in the fight against the galra.”  


* * *

Lance was in his bathroom applying the finishing touches to his blue-green face mask when there was a knock at his door. “Hold on a tic!” he answered, rinsing out the application brush and closing the lid on the jar. Backing up out of the bathroom, he was surprised to see Allura at the door. “Allura?”

“Hello, Lance. Am I interrupting?” She asked, her hands behind her. It was still weird that she had to look up to see his face.

“Not really. What’s up?”

“I have something for you that I hope might help you adjust a little easier.” She brought her hands forward, presenting an ornate box that appeared to be made of a highly expensive red-violet wood. The curved lid had been carved with sixteen spoke wheels that were in a 1-2-1-2-1 mirror imaged pattern, outlined by cupping vines. The corners were accented with sequences of five interlocked circles that created a chain motif. The sides of the box also had wheels, the front and back having a sequence of four while the sides bearing only two. There were little capped trigonal feet on the bottom made of the same blue metal that the two small hinges that kept the box together were. There was no catch on the front. Allura held the box up to him on flat palms. He was hesitant to take it but when he did, it was with great respect. “Go ahead, open it,” she encouraged.

Inside were two equally ornate, eight-inch oval brushes with long dark bristles that Lance highly suspected were probably from something like a boar. There were no handles, each brush made with the intent to be grasped by the main body. The backs were made from the same wood, carved with what appeared to be the junniberries that Allura loved so much. “Allura, I can’t take these.”

“I insist.”

“They are obviously a very personal, very expensive gift.” He closed the box and tried to give it back to her. She refused by clasping her hands back behind her.

“They were from an ambassador, given to me when I was a child. But I have found they are too coarse for my hair. I haven’t touched them in deca-phoebs. I thought that you might make better use of them than I while you are as you are now.”

He brought the box up to himself, stunned. “I, I don’t know what to say.”

Allura just smiled that brilliant smile of hers. “You don’t need to. Accepting them speaks plenty.”

“Thanks, Allura,” he smiled, brow slightly furrowed from strong emotion.

“I’ll take my leave then. It appears that I have interrupted you, forgive me.”

Holding the box between his left arm and abdomen, Lance waved Allura off. “Don’t worry about it, I was done anyway.”

“If you would like, I could show you how to use them at a later time.”

Grabbing the box firmly between both hands again, he smiled. “I would like that.” She returned his smile and with a delicate pivot, turned to leave. Lance put the box on a shelf jutting out adjacent from the entryway to his room. If it weren’t for the mask, he would be scrubbing his face with both hands from the strength of how flabbergasted he was feeling. Never, ever, had anyone given him something so fancy! Oh, there must be some way for him to return the favor because those brushes were too much to just give away like that. Flustered, he plopped next to his bed, front legs tucked and back legs sticking out, spread his arms out to either side to rest on the edge of the bed and tilted his head back. He had retreated to his room to unwind and now twice he was wracking his brain about girls instead; before Allura, he was wracking his brain for reasons why Kaltenecker was upset with him.  


* * *

Keith and Shiro stopped in the kitchen so Keith could eat. Having no molars, he essentially tore each tender into smaller pieces and swallowed them whole, making quick work of his late breakfast. Whatever Shiro thought it, he made no comment. Keith had washed his plate and left it on the drying rack with the others when the two picked up on some quiet muttering from the dining room. Following it, they found Hunk sitting at the table working with a large tablet in his hands. He was muttering pieces of conversation to himself and from that, the two decided Hunk was talking about menus.

“Everything alright there, Hunk?” Shiro asked, placing a hand on the back of Hunk’s chair as he came up to the troll’s side. Keith approached from the other, leaning slightly, studying the tablet. Hunk looked up at Shiro, “Yeah, just trying to think of more appetizing meals for everyone. Lance and I are pretty easy when it comes to what can be added for seasoning and flavor and such. But you and Keith and Pidge, I’m not really sure. Pidge can handle space coffee so she’s either really stubborn about her coffee or her systems have a little leeway with what she eats. So there might be room for herbs and spices to be added to her meals for flavor.” Hunk tapped his tablet, maneuvering through a few documents. “By the way, Shiro, how are you handling breakfast?”

“It was good. You were right, I did surprise myself by eating it all.”

“The tuber cake okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I meant is it settling in your stomach okay? I don’t know if you’re a strict carnivore or if you’re more of an omnivore or something else.” Hunk had set the tablet down and was tapping his fingertips together, shy.

Shiro patted his arm reassuringly. “Everything is okay. I’m pretty sure you can count me in for the same group that you have put yourself and Lance in.”

Hunk smiled brightly and tapped on his tablet. “What about you, Keith?”

“I don’t think it will matter if you add seasoning or not. I can’t really taste,” Keith shrugged, pulling the blanket closed to keep it from falling off his shoulders.

“Nothing?” Hunk’s mouth was slightly agape in disbelief.

“No.”

“Lance was saying something about that while we were making breakfast. Humor me and open your mouth, I want to see what your tongue is like.”

Keith raised an eyebrow so hard that it made his eyes go wide as he pulled back. “W-What?”

“Please? To be honest, every time it flicks out of your mouth, black and narrow and everything, I get curious. And for you to say you can’t taste with it, now I want to know if you’ve even got taste buds.” Hunk’s hands were grasped in front of him, the ultimate pleading look on his face.

Keith groaned a sigh. Despite the invasion of personal space, he mumbled “Fine,” and opened his mouth wide so Hunk could see. Shiro leaned in to take a peek himself because, why not. An opportunity like that doesn’t come about every day.

Keith’s mouth was the normal pink and he had the same amount of white teeth, although they were all pointed. What was really interesting though was he still had a human tongue. Close to the tip though, about half an inch from it, was a small slit though that indicated a sealed orifice. “Where’s your snake tongue?” Hunk asked. Keith answered by show and tell; the odd orifice opened up, letting the familiar long and narrow black bifurcated tongue flick out. It was a tad longer than his human tongue and half the width. Done doing tricks, he clamped his mouth shut and pulled away. Hunk took the hint and backed off. “So, apparently no taste buds. But your mouth is definitely weird.”

“Thanks for noticing,” Keith said with a taut voice.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it in a positive way. It’s interesting and cool,” Hunk tried to amend, gesticulating lightly.

Keith just frowned and looked away. Shiro straightened and folded his arms. “It really is neat, Keith. Don’t be such a sourpuss.” The naga retorted with a low hiss, unimpressed.

Hunk clapped his hands together. “So, back to the matter at hand; are you interested in me trying to liven up your meals?”

Keith studied the blanket, “I think it would be a wasted effort. But, don’t let it deter you if you want to try something.”

“I’ll keep things simple then.” Hunk tapped away at his tablet.

Keith looked around the room. “Where’s Pidge?”

“She said something about checking up on the galra movement. If she’s not on the bridge, I haven’t a clue.”

“And Lance?” Shiro asked.

“He said he would be in his room.” Keith provided. “He looked upset.”

“Probably discovered another thing that has been made more difficult as a centaur I bet. I’ll check up on him,” Hunk said. Picking up his tablet, he waited a moment for Shiro and Keith to move away so he could step away from his chair. Tucking the tablet under an arm, he just about made it out the door when Shiro stalled him. “Hunk, tell Lance to meet us on the bridge in two hours. We need to compile some data and every member on deck is critical.”

Hunk nodded. “Sure thing. I don’t think it’s anything serious. I think he just needed some time to himself to think. We’ll see you in a couple vargas.”

Keith looked at Shiro when Hunk disappeared around the corner. “What do you want to do between now and then?”

“I don’t know, which is kind of upsetting.”

“How about swimming then? It’s a great way to learn more about yourself, to learn how some muscle groups work.” Keith looked forward at the entryway. “It’s something I’ve wanted to try, but not without a spotter.”

Shiro placed his flesh hand on Keith’s shoulder. “I can’t say I would be able to save you if you’re drowning but, it does sound like a good idea.”

“I wasn’t suggesting immediately diving into the deep end! We’ll stick with the shallows first,” Keith pouted, but there was humor in his eyes.

“Right, right,” Shiro chuckled, dropping his hand. “I’ll meet you there. I want to change clothes first.”

“Shy as ever, Shiro.” Keith laughed as they left.

At the pool, Keith stripped and left his clothes, belt, gloves and the blanket, which had lost power, an appropriate distance from the edge of the pool. Approaching the shallows, he stuck his fingers into the water, frowning at the temperature. He wasn’t sure how long he would last if his reptile body didn’t react like his human body would have and warm up with exercise. It was one of the reasons he asked Shiro to come with him. Rather than slide in though, he waited for Shiro to arrive. When the half-dragon did, he was wearing black swim trunks with a tail hole and a white wife beater that had holes torn in the back to accommodate his dragon wings. In his arms were two white towels. Keith raised an eyebrow; it did not occur to him how Shiro would be able to change clothes. Shiro approached him and set the towels at a length away from the pool’s edge. “What?”

“How did you manage to change? You haven’t exactly changed clothes since the transformation.”

“Come to find out, my regular clothes are like a second skin that manifests when I change forms. So they vanished like a dense fog carried away by a strong breeze when I tried to take them off. Getting these on though, “ he pointed to his clothes, “wasn’t easy. It required some thought and some modification.”

“You made quick work about it though. Unless I lost track of time.”

“I wasn’t that quick about it at all. I basically popped the seam in the trunks to fit my tail, that was the easy part and tore holes in my shirt. Neither are very long term. The trunks can probably be worked so the hole is more secure but this shirt, when we’re done swimming, is a lost cause.”

“You could have gone without,” Keith grinned. Shiro just frowned at him, eyebrow raised with that expression that said ‘really, Keith?’’

“Alright, now that that’s worked out, what do you want to try first?” Shiro asked, arms akimbo.

“I was hoping you would go into the water first. I’m not exactly sure if I’m even capable of floating.”

“Sound idea,” Shiro nodded and waded in. He went deep enough so the water was up to his waist, his tail suspended in the water behind him. Pivoting to face Keith, he waited. Keith slid in slowly, shuddering at the cool water. He waded in until it was up to his waist and paused to bring his tail close to himself. For the most part, it felt the same as if he were standing with two legs instead of a giant tail. But there was also that feeling that came with having two-thirds of himself lying on the bottom of the pool. He frowned. Shiro raised his brow. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m thinking.” To float in water as a human, you either had to tread water or lay horizontal. With so much tail, he wasn’t sure if he could tread. And the way it laid on the pool floor, he wasn’t sure he could even float. “I’m going to flip over onto my back and try and float.”

“Okay. I’m ready,” Shiro nodded.

Keith twisted from the waist and leaned back, focusing on floating. He went down but Shiro didn’t panic because Keith quickly righted himself and came back up shaking the water out of his hair. He tried again, intently focusing on lifting his tail up off the pool floor. Same result. Shiro stepped forward, pulling his way through the water with his arms until he was close to Keith. “How about I hold you up on your back so you can focus on working your tail?” Keith nodded and twisted so his back was facing him. With a gentle tug, he guided Keith back and held him floating awkwardly on his back. He could see Keith trying to work the muscles in his tail, could see them flexing irregularly. If he could give advice, Shiro would have. But this was completely out of his league.

“Patience yields focus,” he heard Keith mumble to himself. Slowly, Keith lifted a length of his tail equal to his human height up so that it was floating just below the surface of the water, unfortunately still being held down by the rest of it. Keith frowned as he looked down at it, his brow tight with concentration. Shiro couldn’t see that Keith was mentally straining to get the rest of his tail up. This extra length of himself he had never really focused on trying to maneuver by independently, it had always been through instinct, a sort of ‘follow the leader’ to the front of himself. He wouldn’t give up though. If it wanted to play follow the leader, then maybe another approach would work. 

Slowly, he moved the part of his tail above the water from side to side. The rest of his tail was slow to follow and the motion traveled down it into the water. He kept trying, imagining the motion carrying through the tail. The undulations were slow to manifest but when they did and in increasing intensity, Shiro found himself being pushed against. He could see just as Keith could feel that the slow movement was causing the end of Keith’s tail to lift up though until finally the entirety of Keith was floating on top of the water like a giant scribbled line. Keith leaned his head back into the water and laughed. Shiro recognized the sound as one of triumph, often heard after a tense course in the simulator, especially when Keith had crushed Shiro’s score yet again.

“Ready for me to let go?” he asked, smiling down at the naga. 

“Yeah, I think I’ve got it,” Keith answered, grinning. Shiro let go, pulling his hands away slowly, ever ready to grab his friend if he started to go under. But Keith didn’t, so Shiro stepped away. “Good?”

“Yeah. I’m going to try and swim.”

Shiro wanted to question Keith’s intent but, experience had taught him that a determined Keith was hard to dissuade. So he moved out of Keith’s path, up against the side of the pool, vigilant for any signs of distress. But, Keith just floated there, an expression of intense focus on his face. Putting both arms up behind him, Keith undulated his tail slowly in wide gestures. This didn’t propel him very much. So he decreased the width of the undulations and figured out that the smaller they were, the greater force they had to propel him. Quickly he got the feel for the movement and added the backstroke to his efforts, relishing the feel of the water flowing past him. When his hand touched the edge of the other end of the pool he stopped and just floated. A few minutes later, he rolled just enough so he could grasp the edge of the pool comfortably. Confident that he could still float, he rolled the rest of himself over, a satisfied grin on his face when he proved himself right. He maneuvered himself around so that he was facing the opposite direction and used a section of his tail to push himself off the wall, after which he swam forward, pushing with his undulating tail and pulling with a basic front stroke. Rather than stopping at Shiro’s side though, he went all the way to the other side and grasped the rim again before moving upright, pulling his tail beneath the water to support himself from the floor. He was laughing again while Shiro waded over. 

“Nice work.” Shiro congratulated.

“I’ve still got a lot of practice ahead of me. I want to be able to switch over to swimming quickly and not have to rely on someone to keep me afloat at first. Thank you for helping though, Shiro. It’s greatly appreciated.”

“I know, Keith. I know.”

“You want to do a few laps?”

“Maybe another time. I’m sure we have only a few minutes to get to the bridge.”

“Okay.” Keith hefted himself out of the pool from the side, water dripping and flowing off of him as he slithered forward, low to the ground, a bit and then rose to normal height before moving the rest of himself out. Almost immediately he felt chilled and folded his arms. Shiro climbed the stairs and retrieved the towels, walking over and handing one to Keith who promptly started drying off. “I wonder if there’s a hot tub around,” Shiro mused as he followed suit.

Top mostly dry, Keith beelined it for his clothes and hurriedly pulled them on. Afterwards, he patted down the rest of his tail and temporarily abandoned the towel on the floor while he wrapped up in the blue blanket, reminded within seconds that the battery was dead. Oh well, it was still warmer than not. He couldn’t keep himself from hunching over slightly, however. Shiro placed his flesh hand on Keith’s shoulder, squeezing gently before stooping to pick up Keith’s towel. “Let’s get going.”  
“Unless they have another one of these blankets there, it looks like I’ll be taking Lance up on his offer,” Keith mumbled tiredly as they left.

“For what?”

“To be my personal space heater,” Keith mumbled even quieter.

Shiro chuckled lightly. “When did that happen?”

“While we got caught in the rain hunting. He bullied me into simultaneously laying on top of him and sitting in front of him so he could hug me.”

“Bullied you?” Shiro raised an eyebrow.

“He threatened to sit on me if I didn’t!” Keith retorted loudly. 

Shiro scratched his cheek. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be sat on by a horse either.” He was still chuckling.

“It’s not funny, Shiro,” Keith pouted as they waited for the elevator doors to open. Keith had to squash himself up against the wall in order to make room for Shiro. Only after they reached the floor for the bridge did the half-dragon calm down. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Okay, okay. There is some truth in that.” Shiro dropped the towels down the laundry chute. 

They were the last ones to reach the bridge. “Look who’s tardy for once,” Lance commented with a derogatory tone and smug expression. He was in his regular clothes and clean skinned.

“Lance,” Allura warned immediately upon seeing how lethargic Keith looked. Lance promptly snapped out of it. “You okay, Keith?” His hands were in front of him, ready to act if needed.

Keith nodded minutely. “Just a little unprepared after swimming.”

“Aw! Why didn’t you invite me?” Lance whined a bit. 

“You needed the time to yourself I thought. Wasn’t that why you were in your room?” Keith’s brow was raised, confused.

Lance dropped his arms and bowed his head, “Right, right. Though next time I’m invited, right?” he peeked, hopeful.

“Sure.” Keith shrugged.

“Good. Okay, Shiro, what are we doing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for how long it took to get this chapter out.  
> After reblogging [my first fanart](https://bucketoffudgeinamuffin.tumblr.com/post/166715688656/solace-and-shadow-fanart) on tumblr, my sister confronted me about it, not knowing that I write this fic. She then asked me a few questions about how Lance would achieve some things and that spawned the idea for a side story consisting of journal entries from Lance (as well as a major case of "The Shy".) So last week was eaten up by writing three entries for that little side story; more are planned as the story progresses. As of yet, **Chronicles of a Centaur in Space** can only be found [ on my tumblr. ](https://bucketoffudgeinamuffin.tumblr.com/tagged/Chronicles-of-a-Centaur-in-Space)
> 
> Also, future chapters are going to be posted at longer intervals. I know I said sporadic updates but I have been trying to get new chapters out relatively every week. Lately, this has been very stressful so I'm changing chapter update goals to every two weeks. If I do finish a chapter in a week though, you can bet I'll be posting it ahead of two weeks as a surprise.
> 
> Thank you all so much for the comments and the kudos and the bookmarks. They are fuel to my engine and light to the dark and dreary of real life.
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated. I learn new things depending on what is said and I appreciate it.


	11. Adventures in what Coran knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The paladins collect some information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is not betaed. It's also very dialogue heavy.

“Alright,” Shiro began as he approached the main projector. “We need to compile a database with what we collectively know about Earth myths which hopefully will give us some insight on what to expect from ourselves for the time being.”

From her seat, Pidge opened up a new file and made it so that her screen mirrored on the projector. “Let’s start with dragons then since they are pretty well known,” she suggested.

Lance silently waved Keith over to his seat and instead of sitting in it, plopped down next to it so the naga could catch the hint. Reluctantly, Keith slithered over and made himself as comfortable as he could, refusing to sit in front of Lance though, instead choosing to lower himself next to his teammate and lay as much of his tail as he could on Lance’s horse half unobtrusively from behind. Lance shrugged and went with it. “What dragons though? I know of two and that’s Eastern and Western dragons.”

“I only know a little about Western dragons, like they abduct princesses and hoard gold and precious jewels,” Hunk provided from his seat, legs crossed and arms folded with a thoughtful expression. “There’s always some fool knight trying to slay the dragon to rescue the princess and he gets killed instead. Then there’s one that finally slays the dragon and is crowned a hero and marries the princess as a reward or something.”

Allura was aghast. “Your people give away royalty for such heinous deeds?”

“It was common in old stories ages ago, yes.” Lance nodded. “But I don’t think it was common practice in actual history because there are no real dragons on Earth. Anyway, moving on”

“Most Western dragons are portrayed as six-limbed, four legs, and two wings, and are quadrupeds and are depicted as reptilian. Depending on the myth, they may or may not be capable of flight,” Pidge offered, typing away.

“Some stories tell of Western dragons having poisonous blood and captivating eyes. And some say that they can breathe fire while others claim that the acid in their saliva burns like fire,” added Keith. “They have massive horns and crests on their heads, sometimes under their chins. I think there’s even a myth that there’s a stone in the center of the dragon’s forehead that is like a critical organ; it’s also considered a prized trophy for dragon slayers.”

Shiro was nodding. “What I know of them is that they’re believed to claim territory around hostile geographic areas like volcanoes and steep mountainous regions. That’s similar to Eastern dragons who instead of claiming territory are more like protectors of geographic features like forests, mountains, and rivers. Even some sacred sites.”

“What else do you know about Eastern dragons, Shiro?” Hunk asked. “Seems like you would know the most being from Japan and all.” He was tapping his fingertips again.

“Well, they’re not known to have wings and they’re usually serpentine with shorter legs. The ones that I’ve seen statues and other arts done of them have deer antlers for horns and two long whiskers as well as beards. Their scales are more fish-like instead of a reptile. Though they don’t have wings they can still fly.”

“You told me they’re benevolent to humankind for the most part,” Keith responded. “They’re considered lucky in some regions.”

“I heard they control the weather sometimes,” Lance chipped in, folding his arms. “But don’t they breathe fire too?”

“Sometimes. It’s believed to be a punishment from the heavens if they ever do though,” Shiro answered. “Some are also believed to have nasty tempers.”

“Such differences,” Allura commented. “They’re like two sides of the same sika.”

“What about the Quetzalcoatl? Wasn’t that a type of dragon?” Lance asked. “I think I remember it being a type of dragon given its description.”

The rest of the paladins shrugged. “What even brought that up?” Keith asked.

“I like the word so I looked up the origin. I just don’t remember most of it.”

“Anything else we know about dragons?” Pidge asked the collective. When no one answered, she cleared her throat. “Next, trolls.”

Sometime during the paladins’ conversation, Coran had slipped away. Just as they were moving on to the next myth topic, he slipped back in and was standing next to Keith with a steaming cup in his hands. “Here, Keith. This should warm you up.”

“The only things I know about trolls is that one series of movies. They eat horses, kill humans and hoard weapons in caves. And let’s not forget they turn to stone in sunlight,” Lance counted off on his fingers.

Keith was so focused on the conversation that he didn’t notice the advisor until he spoke. Starting a bit, he looked up at Coran’s face first, then the offering. Carefully accepting the mug, he peered inside. The liquid was clear but he smell tasted a citrus hint wafting up in the steam. Coran was quick to answer, “It’s just some warm water with a hint of mona nectar. I figure nunvil might be too strong for you.”

“If that bit about turning to stone is true, I don’t want to find out,” Hunk shuddered.

Keith sipped at it, smiling slightly at the taste. “Thanks, Coran.”

“Anytime, Number 4.” And with that, Coran stepped back inconspicuously to his control panel. 

“Chill, it’s only temporary. When the sun goes down they’re flesh again.”

“Some people associate Orcs with trolls,” Pidge commented, typing away.

“In old times, I think short people, or dwarves, were considered trolls because of their unusual proportions. Or maybe they’re the inspiration for the myth,” Hunk mused.

“That is rather discriminatory,” Allura commented.

Keith nodded at Allura. “Aren’t they more animalistic than that? Unusual anatomy like horns, scales and tails and such?” Keith asked. “That better describes you now, Hunk, than what a fantasy novel series portrays.” 

“Maybe. Or you could be confusing trolls for gargoyles,” Hunk replied.

“I don’t know anything about troll myths,” Shiro shrugged.

“I just know the Orc bit,” Pidge shrugged too. “Next, centaurs.”

“Do centaurs have manes?” Hunk immediately asked. “Lance does.”

“Hunk!” Lance responded, flustered.

“What? Was it supposed to be a secret? Keith knows. I know. What’s wrong with everyone else knowing?”

“You have a mane?” Pidge piped up.

“Yes, I have a mane,” Lance confirmed. “I guess it’s no big deal if everyone knows. But, Hunk, if you make that mane pun again we are so done being friends,” he warned.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my horsing around in check,” Hunk couldn’t help himself.

Lance hung his head, defeated. He didn’t even vocalize his disappointment.

Pidge had an amused expression on her face, hard to see for what it was due to her blindfold. But she gave nothing away when saying, “What I know of them is that they’re drunkards who aren’t too respectful of women.”

Lance’s jaw dropped, aghast. “I am the epitome of a respectable ladies man!” His fingertips were touching the part of his chest over his heart.

“Knock that ego down a few pegs and you’ll be more accurate,” Pidge scoffed. 

“Rude!”

“Fact!”

“Enough!” Shiro said in an orotund manner. “Back to the topic at hand. Anything else we can add?”

“They’re always depicted as tribal warriors from what I’ve seen,” Keith answered. “I have never heard of a female centaur either.”

“Wha?! That can’t be true,” Lance had a forlorn expression. “No Mrs. Blue Paladin?”

“You want to stay a centaur?” Keith asked, confused.

“Of course not!”

“Then don’t worry so much about inconsequential matters.”

“Yeah, I got nothing,” Hunk said when he was the subsequent center of attention.

“They sound like a rather reclusive race,” Allura interjected.

“Next, naga. Or is it nagas? What’s the plural?” Pidge stared at the ceiling as she thought.

“I’m pretty sure it’s nagas,” Hunk answered.

“I know they’re popular in Indian culture,” Keith said. Lance gave him an inquisitive look. “What? I read. A lot.”

“You pick some interesting topics to read about.”

“Anything else you can remember about them?” Shiro prompted. Keith shook his head. “No. I’ve only seen pictures documenting the art and sculpture of them. Didn’t go into detail about the beliefs.”

“That’s more than I know about them,” Hunk commented. Pidge nodded her head. Lance shrugged.

“I take it back, your nagas sound more reclusive than the centaurs,” Allura amended.

“You might want to hold off on that, Allura. Gorgon are just as bad,” Pidge remarked, typing away. “Anyone else know of any more detail other than Medusa turned people to stone with a look?”

“She was the only mortal gorgon. There were two others that were immortal. Supposedly they were sisters,” Keith offered. Lance looked at him but said nothing.

“Okay, there’s that,” Pidge added it to her document. With a final tap of a key, she sat back. “That’s not a lot of information guys.”

“Well add to it as we discover new things,” Shiro said. 

“Perhaps I might be of some assistance,” Coran interposed.

“Can’t do any harm that I can see. What have you got, Coran?”

“Well, maybe some facts would be better than your fictions. While you each may not be exactly a different species, you might have more similarities to other peoples than with your story characters.”

“Are you referring to when you likened us to those other aliens on the day we were transformed?” Hunk asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“Yes. I haven’t personally met individuals but I have heard accounts from other travelers about other planets inhabited by peoples that resemble yourselves.”

“Well, tell us what you’ve got. I’d say at this point, any additional information could be useful,” Shiro encouraged

“I’ll start with the Masduulaatii then, the people that I mistook you for, Shiro.” Coran put his hands behind the small of his back. “They are a very rare people of legend. No one knows their true longevity, some even claim that they are immortal. They are said to be immune to the vacuum of space and can thrive in the heart of stars. Of course, that could be pure hyperbole.” He paused to twist his mustache. “The Nagarr are more closely related to you, I think. They claim to be direct descendants of the Masduulaatii, though they’re most likely distant cousins. First off, they are remarkably smaller in size, averaging about what you are in your other form. Before the war, they were in the infancy of their space exploration and had mixed reactions about Alteans visiting their planet. Over the years though, trade relations were arranged. What Altean ambassadors learned of them was that they were a patriarchal people. The male populace were protective of family units and especially protective of mates. They were not above mutual cooperation for the greater good however and had created a sort of grand council government system. They had their scholars as well as warriors and are mostly agricultural. I don’t know of any who could shift into another form, however. That trait is uniquely you.”

“Well, that explains some instincts,” Shiro commented. “And possibly even diet.”

“The Mogesi are a reclusive people that thrive in caves and other areas with little to no light. Cold temperatures do not bother them and they are known to have adverse reactions to unfiltered sunlight, though what the reaction is and why it happens is not known. They co-exist with other races on their planet through the trade of foodstuffs for ore and precious metals that are mined. They are a clan-like people, typically one clan per cave system. Mostly agricultural, they are able to cultivate some fauna that grows inside the caves utilizing the artificial light that was engineered for that purpose.”

“I don’t like the sound of that aversion to sunlight bit. But everything else sounds okay,” Hunk replied.

“The Ihhashi are very skilled craftsmen, engineers and scholars, although not a space-faring people due to their dislike of confined spaces. Yet, they are very knowledgeable about the space around their planet and are active interplanetary traders. They are also known for their excellent marksmanship and fondness for athletics. Horticulturists, they aren’t above a good hunt for whatever occasion. A very social people that valued close bonds and tradition. Their government I believe was a democracy.”

“I like them already!” Lance grinned.

“The Ibabi are a little-known people. Yet another society claiming to be descendants of the Masduulaatii, they don’t care much for space or space travel, likely due to how heavily their bodies rely on external sources of heat and were quick to drive off all interplanetary travelers. What was learned about them is that they are a nomadic people made up of mostly warriors. All persons seemed to be in tune with the environment, knowing when to move with herds and take shelter from bad weather. Some were herdsmen if the area they were residing in was good for it. It is thought that they are a clan-like people as well but I could be wrong. Strong bonds between individuals and groups were noted though and were not something to be treated lightly. There is no gender dimorphism but it was easy to pick out the females when they were tending to broods. I suppose for increased security, females would sometimes brood in small groups.”

“That reiterates a few things,” Keith said, sipping his drink.

“Lastly, the Gurbi; I’m afraid not much is known about them. Many believe they are an extinct society and what is known is hypothesis made through archeological discovery. They were an angry, territorial people who were hostile to outsiders, sacrificing them to their deities in various rituals, or just to show their enemies their strength. Ritual consumption of various organs was also believed to be practiced. Murals were constructed in commemoration of various events like great battles and royal successions or upheavals. Barbaric as they seemed, they might have been scholarly as well given some of their architecture.”

“That, is gross,” Pidge gagged. “I really hope that some of those characteristics don’t transfer over.”

“And that’s all I know. Hopefully, that helps out some.”

“It definitely provides something. I guess it was too much to hope for more individualistic details,” Shiro sighed. “But we’ll make due.”

“How about we start a list of what we do know?” Hunk suggested, opening up a new document and setting it up as Pidge had. “Where do we start?”

“Keith’s cold-blooded,” Lance quickly put in. “But he also has a quick surprise attack. He caught this alien lizard critter with his bare hands.” He paused for dramatic effect, “And ate it.”

Keith just face-palmed. “It didn’t make you sick, did it?” Hunk asked.

“I don’t think so,” Keith answered, sipping from his mug. “I’ve also got constrictive capabilities, much like a boa.”

“And a keen sense of smell,” Lance added.

“Anything else?” Hunk asked. Keith shook his head. “Okay, you’re next, Lance.”

“I guess if a horse can do it, so can I,” he shrugged, a little glum.

“That’s still a good skill set,” Hunk encouraged. “Maybe you got a level up too, sharpshooter.” Lance smiled faintly at that. “We should also add increased dietary needs. Same for you, Keith.”

“I don’t think I need that much more,” Keith objected. Hunk kept the detail on his list though.

“Shiro, you’re next.”

“Well, the obvious shapeshifting and a significant need to be in dragon form regularly. Increased dietary need,” he began. Pidge jumped in, “Protective instinct.” Reluctantly, he nodded.

“Breathing fire,” Hunk added.

“There’s something I noticed earlier,” Keith said. “There’s a connection, I think, between how much Shiro eats and his external temperature.”

“That’s interesting. I wonder if it’s what you eat, Shiro, or how much you eat. What do you think?” Hunk asked.

“The latter I think,” Shiro answered. “I’ve also got an insanely keen ability to see in low light and I can hyperfocus on specific sounds in dragon form,” He added, folding his arms.

“Cool!” Lance commented.

“Pidge, you learn anything new?” Hunk asked.

“Aside from having the potential to see in eight different directions at once and killing someone with a look, I don’t think so,” she responded with a shrug. “I haven’t tried seeing through all eight snakes yet though. Just two is migraine inducing. I can switch between them though.”

“Okay, I’m last.” Hunk typed for a bit. “I can see extremely well in low light. I think I’m stronger than before, something I noticed while gathering stuff yesterday. Lance thinks my skin is tougher, so I’ll add that. Increased dietary needs. Can you guys think of anything else?”

Answers of ‘nope’ and ‘no’ filled the room. Hunk sat back in his seat. “So far, it’s not much. We shouldn’t be discouraged though because I’m sure we’ll learn more as time passes.”

“Agreed,” Allura said. “I suggest a bout in the training room. Nothing too drastic to start off, but I do have an idea that ideally will help you all adapt a little quicker.”

Lance looked at Keith. “You warm enough?”

Keith took a moment to assess himself. “Well enough. Some exercise I think will help.” To emphasize his point, he moved his tail off of Lance. The centaur got to his hooves. “To the training room then!” he pointed to the doors. “What have you got planned, Allura?”

“I’ll tell you when we get there. I do need some time to set it up though. It’s an unconventional form of training. You won’t need your armor but you might want to change into some attire that is suited for heavy exercise unless you don’t mind being in your regular clothes.”

“From the sounds of it, I’m changing. I don’t want sweat stains on this fabulous outfit.” Lance stood akimbo, tail swishing behind him.

“I’m fine as is,” Keith said, his mug empty.

“Same,” echoed Pidge.

“I think I’ll change too,” Hunk replied.

“I’ll just use what I’m wearing now,” Shiro commented, a slightly sheepish expression forming on his face, his arms still folded though. “Changing clothes isn’t an easy thing for me.”

“Alright then. Meet in the training room in twenty doboshes,” Allura instructed. Everyone nodded and filed out.

“A moment, Keith,” Coran requested. Keith paused and turned, watching the advisor close the distance between them. Coran stretched out his hand, his other one behind his back. “If I may take your blanket for a bit. I believe the power supply has been exhausted. So while you’re training, I’ll have it recharging.”

“Oh, yeah, it is,” Keith confirmed, shrugging off the blanket and handing it over. “Thanks.” Looking at the mug in his hands, he added, “And thanks for the drink. It did help. I’ll take this back to the kitchen myself.”

“Alright then, have fun training,” Coran smile. Keith raised an eyebrow as he turned to follow the others out; he didn’t exactly think training was something to be labeled as fun. Maybe he could label it as fun because there was the occasional time where he was enjoying himself. He outwardly shrugged, unsure of what to decide. His focus quickly changed to figuring out what Allura had planned for their training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not even a week and there's a new chapter out?!  
> Yeah, this chapter has been partially written in my head and through pages and pages of notes. Every time I thought I got close to fleshing this one out, something else had to be put first for the flow of the story to be smooth.
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated.


	12. Adventures in Space Soccer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The paladins play a little ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my sister @taishitori for helping me with some ideas for this chapter.  
> This chapter is unbetad

What the paladins found in the training room was not what they expected after months and months of fighting the galra war. Green pylons sat in parallel lines in one part of the room and created paths in another. Underneath the command deck was a net made of tactile energy similar to what manifested over the cargo trailer from last night’s retrieval, stretched over a wide metal frame. There were six sport-sized balls with purple and blue hexagonal patterns on them waiting in front of Allura who was wearing her typical battle suit and hair high in a bun. “Welcome paladins. Today’s training consists of drills in the Altean sport of janibarlar.”

Lance’s eyes were as wide as they would go, his mouth agape. “SPACE FOOTBALL!” he cheered, arms pumped high into the air. The loose sleeves of his white gym shirt sliding down to meet his deltoids. 

Allura’s expression was a mix of perplexed shock. “You’re familiar with this sport?”

“Seems like soccer is truly universal,” Pidge commented, her arms folded and a wicked grin on her face.

“I have never played,” Keith mumbled, eyes taking in everything in the room as his head turned.

“This brings back memories,” Shiro said fondly. His arms were folded, but the happy swish of his tail was giving him away like a beacon.

“Don’t worry, Keith. I haven’t played either,” Hunk consoled, stepping up to stand next to the naga. He was wearing loose clothing as well, shorts and a t-shirt that were a pale yellow in color. They revealed more of the thick hair on his legs and arms but he appeared to have no qualms about it showing. Lacking other appropriate footwear, he was still wearing his boots.

“I see,” Allura commented as she took in each paladin’s reaction. “Are you familiar with these then?” She picked up a box, tipping it so that the team could see inside and received a mix of nodding and shaking heads. “These are apsauga. They go on your legs to help prevent injury.”

Lance reached in and selected one. “Oh, shins,” he explained, examining the black one in his hands; it was obviously too big for his narrow horse leg. “Got anything smaller?”

Allura smiled. “Of course. The one you’ve got is for Shiro.” Lance looked back in the box and saw some blue shins that were narrower than the rest and looked as though they were made to wrap around the majority of his leg instead of just the front of it. Grinning, he returned Shiro’s shin and took out his own, examining them while the others picked theirs out having caught on that the equipment was color coded. Keith stared at two red ones that would have fit his human legs. Allura ducked her head, sheepish. “These were made some time ago. I had wanted to introduce janibarlar to you as a more recreational activity instead of a method of training.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll manage.”

“If you made these before we transformed, why do mine fit perfectly?” Lance asked. He was bent over at the waist, holding the shins against his legs, trying to figure out how to equip them.

“They’re made of a malleable material that can be reshaped when high heat is introduced. I estimated with everyone’s apsauga using the information from the castle’s identity scans,” Allura explained, setting the box aside. “They’re self equipping. There’s a switch on the outer side of each of them. With the apsauga against your leg, press the switch and it will secure itself.”

Lance found the switch, a tiny thing that was slightly lighter in color than the standard blue and minutely recessed. He would have to use his fingernail to press it. Holding the shin to his leg, he pressed the switch, which turned out to be more of a button, and the tactile energy that the Alteans seemed to be so fond of, manifested around the back of his leg to the other side like elastic, securing the shin to his leg as velcro would have but more flexible. “Cool!”

Pidge moved a snake so it was looking at Allura, asking, “How much does the identity scan pick up?”

“Figure proportions, height, mass and facial recognition. It nowhere near goes as in-depth as a medical scan done by a pod and some of our handheld scanners,” Allura answered easily.

Whatever Pidge had to say to that, she kept to herself, but she could not hide the thoughtful yet disappointed expression that peeked out from her blindfold.

Hunk observed Shiro for instruction on how to place the shins and equip them. He had to take off his boots first and then had much trouble with the little button switch before managing to activate it with a fingernail. If they were going to play space soccer in the future, he was going to engineer a better activation switch.

Once everyone was equipped, the princess included, wearing white shins, Allura clapped her hands in front of herself. “The first drill is designed to learn how to control the ball. The aim is to keep it moving in front of you but not kicking it so far ahead of you that you end up having to chase it down. First, we’ll start with just a straight dribble.”

“Dribble?” Keith asked.

“That’s what moving the ball is called. Same as in basketball,” Shiro answered.

“I’ll give a demonstration,” Allura said. Selecting a ball, she moved to the closer end of a straight path marked by the green pylons. Setting it down and holding it in place with her foot for a moment, she easily slid into the technique, utilizing every step she took to touch the ball in some way, keeping it moving in front of her but not too far. Reaching the end of the path, in a continuous flow of movement, she pivoted around the ball and guided it back to the starting point, stopping the ball by placing her foot on it once more. “The concept is easy. Don’t feel intimidated by not being able to control the ball well on your first try. This exercise is meant to help you learn precise motor skills in your new bodies more than to show off one’s athletic ability.” Using her feet, she positioned the ball in the center of the invisible start line. Backing away, she asked, “Who would like to go first?”

“I’m up, I’m up!” Lance announced, stepping forward. He placed a hoof experimentally on the ball, rolling it slightly left and right, forward and back to get a feel for it. Compared to his size, the ball was very small and if he wasn’t careful, he could easily step on it and either trip or pop it. He kicked it with the tip of his hoof, sending it farther ahead of himself than he wanted. Catching up to it, he tried to stop the ball but his narrow hoof was too forward, causing his hoof to roll off the ball and set him off balance and the ball backward. Humming once as he righted himself, he walked around the sluggishly moving ball until he was once again behind it. Tapping it forward again, this time sending it just slightly ahead so his next step knocked it forward a bit too far, resulting in two steps before reaching it again. His next kick knocked the ball to the right and when he tried to reach his leg out to catch it, he found he couldn’t move it the way he wanted to. “Well, that sucks,” he said matter-of-factly while going after the ball. Stopping it, he walked around it until he was facing the start of the path. Not even halfway down it, he kicked the ball hard, sending it back towards Allura, it’s angle making it go past her and knocking over a pylon. Hunk went after the ball as Lance slowly walked back, annoyed and depressed in the same expression. “Why did you stop, Lance?” Allura asked. There was a slight tone of annoyance in her voice.

“My legs won’t move like I want them too,” Lance lamented.

“The point of the exercise it to learn about yourself, as I said, not to prove some level of athleticism,” she reiterated.

“I know, I know. It’s just a… a hard blow, you know. I was really good back on Earth. Not quite an MVP but there were many who thought I could go pro; coaches, teammates and their families. Of course, my family said I could go pro and maybe I would have had I not set my sights on space and flying.”

Hunk returned. “Give him a few minutes won’t you, Allura? I’ll even go next.” She nodded. Hunk set the ball down in the invisible start line. Like Lance did, he set his foot on top and rolled it about, stepping off of it instead of immediately going to kick it. Experimentally, he tapped it forward with the tip of his boot sending it about a step away. Stepping forward with the opposite foot, he nudged the ball ahead again, sending it slightly to the other side so that when he stepped again, he ended up kicking the ball when he didn’t want to. It went ahead a few paces and would have kept rolling if he hadn’t stepped on it to stop it. But he was a little forceful with his step, his foot sliding backward and knocking him off balance. He pitched forward, moving his arms to steady himself. In attempts to step clear of the ball, his leg circled about for a moment before coming down resulting in him doing a forward lunge. Standing straight again, he approached the ball, which had gone to rest next to a pylon, and nudged it back towards the center. He continued his awkward single side nudging, mostly able to keep the ball a pace distance away but sometimes ending up having to chase after it. Close to the start again, he kicked the ball a little too hard in his eagerness. Allura stepped forward and stopped it with her foot. Hunk rubbed the back of his head as he walked back. “That’s tougher than you made it look,” he commented as he moved to stand behind her with the other paladins.

“I’m next,” Keith said, slithering forward. Allura set the ball and moved away so Keith could approach. For several minutes he just stared that the ball, a scowl on his face. Shiro recognized that scowl from when they were at the pool, the one that meant he was thinking. Lance, however, got impatient. “It’s not going to move on its own no matter how hard you stare at it, Keith.”

“Shut up, I know!” Aggravated, he slithered forward so the ball touched the front of his tail. Unfortunately, instead of moving the ball, he ended up moving over it like an obstacle, slightly off balance because of how small the ball was compared to the width of the tail; it was peaking out from underneath him. Lance couldn’t hold back a snicker. “Lance!” Shiro reprimanded.

Hunk whacked Lance’s side. “That’s not very nice.”

Embarrassed but covering it up with a deeper scowl, Keith grabbed the ball with his hands and put it back in front of himself. Hyper-focused on how his tail muscles were moving, he slithered up to touch the ball again, making an effort to keep his scales to the floor and push the ball instead. It was slow going but, he was progressing, scooting the ball forward steadily. However, his undulating movement caused the ball to veer to the side and when he tried to chase after it, he ended up continuing to push it away from himself. When he reached out to grab it with his hands again, Allura stopped him. “Don’t use your hands, Keith. That defeats the purpose of the drill.”

Keith straightened and after a moment’s thought, pulled back away from the ball so he could scoot behind it, trying to center the ball against himself. For about five or six seconds he had the ball moving on a straight course again, but once more it deviated because of the natural movement of his tail. He pulled back and centered the ball again, driving it forward until it inevitably veered to the side again. He repeated this process until he got to the end where he backed away and tried to go around the ball, not giving enough space between it and his tail, resulting in bumping it away from himself as he attempted to get behind it again. Quickly, he got in front of the moving thing and corralled it with his tail so it would stay put. Ignoring Allura’s protests, he picked up the ball and centered it, moving his tail away and scrunching it up behind him. Instead of undulating, he used his bunched up tail to move himself and the ball forward for a length, having a minor amount of greater success than lateral undulating. He persisted though with the scrunching movement, even with the adjustments he had to make to recenter the ball until he got close to the start line at which point he moved to the side of the ball and slithered normally passed it. “I think I would do better on some turf or something,” he commented.

“Or with a hockey stick,” Pidge interjected.

“It was a good effort though, Keith,” Allura replied. “The point is to learn. Pidge, you’re up next.”

Pidge waited for Allura to center the ball. Unlike Hunk, when she went after the ball it was with gusto instead of reservation which resulted in her chasing after the ball a lot more and having only a moderate control of its trajectory. Instead of pivoting around the ball at the end though, she ricocheted it off the wall hard enough for it to zoom past her and she was chasing after it again. Hunk caught the ball at the starting line when she kicked it the for the final stretch. Allura was flummoxed by Pidge’s performance. For someone who fights in close quarters with precise, controlled attacks, this demonstration of near reckless abandon came as a shock. “I never was a serious soccer player. Matt and I just goofed off and played for fun, nothing serious,” Pidge explained upon seeing Allura’s expression. “I suppose I could have taken the drill more seriously but to be honest, it was hard to care enough.”

“I see,” she answered, though she really didn’t understand. “Shiro, your turn.”

He stepped forward and placed his foot on top of the ball; it was almost big enough and his claws long enough that if he flexed, he could grasp the ball easily with his four toes. He kicked it forward, noting how his claws were sending the ball off of his intended trajectory so he did his best to compensate, using the side of the ball of his foot where his claws, even his dewclaw, would not touch it. It was trickier footwork and slowed him down a bit, however, in the end, he was the second fastest to complete the drill. Stopping it with his foot back at the beginning, he smirked mirthfully. “That was interesting.”

“Good work on adapting quickly. Now, Lance, I know you may not want to, but please do the drill again and this time, make an effort to complete it,” Allura requested, doing her best to be gentle with her tone.

“Fine, fine.” Lance approached the ball and nudged it forward with one leg and again with his other, though with a bit more force. It looked like he was running the drill much as Pidge had except with a little more reserve. When the ball went off course, he moved to the left or right while he was still behind the ball and with the appropriate leg, tapped it back towards the center of the path while still moving it ahead. He was doing so somewhat unconsciously, not truly aware of what he was doing, not aware that he had picked up his speed so he was at a leisurely trot. Reaching the end he tapped the ball to a stop and made a wide u-turn before picking up his method again. He stopped the ball just short of the invisible line and sighed, staring at it. When he looked up, Hunk’s jaw was aiming for the floor. “Lance! That was so cool!”

“Huh?”

“See, Lance, you can achieve a goal when you put your mind to it,” Allura praised.

“I... what?” Lance had a prize-winning dumbfounded look on his face.

“You let your ego get in the way,” Keith said monotonously, folding his arms.

“I don’t have an ego! You’ve got an ego!”

“Yes you do! You’ve got an ego big enough to fill a hot air balloon!” Keith’s arms were straight at his sides and despite Lance’s height, Keith was leaning forward to drill in his point, even with his head leaning back so he could glare into Lance’s eyes.

“I wouldn’t say ego so much as overconfidence,” Hunk tried to interject, his hands up in a placatory gesture.

“Oh yeah?! Your ego is so inflated that a bird could ride on it like a thermal!” Lance was leaning over into the outskirts of Keith’s personal bubble. Keith started to hiss a warning.

“Sounds like ego to me,” Pidge jabbed, her arms folded and weight on one leg.

“Paladins, please! The point is that Lance overcame whatever was holding him back and adapted splendidly,” Allura spoke loudly. Lance backed off from Keith, folding his arms and snubbing him.

“Yeah, Lance. It may not have been as finely controlled as you wanted but, you were in the zone man!” Hunk encouraged.

“Yeah, it was pretty cool,” Pidge concurred.

“May I continue with the training?” Allura asked as politely as she could. Her impatience was near being exposed by her quivering brow.

“Yes, princess,” Shiro replied getting his team back in order.

“Alright. The next drill involves guiding the ball back and forth between a series of konus.” Allura picked up the ball where Lance had left it and moved to the area where eleven green pylons were spaced with six feet between each one, the first being the starting pylon. Allura demonstrated in much the same way as her dribbling demonstration, each step guiding the ball in some way as she wove through. At the last pylon, she dribbled the ball in a U-turn and wove her way back through the pylons. Stopping the ball with her foot like usual, she continued, “The goal is to go back and forth between the konus. Speed and technique do not matter so long as the base goal is achieved.”

“Since I went last in the first drill, I’ll go first with this one,” Shiro said, stepping forward. He made short work of the drill with a tight weave between the pylons, losing control of the ball twice because he had knocked it against a pylon the first time and grazed one with the ball the second. He stopped the ball with his foot when he returned to the start.

“I’m next,” Hunk offered. With his hands, he placed the ball next to the starting pylon. Using a similar approach to dribbling, he guided the ball with mostly one foot, nudging it forward just enough so he could get a step or a step and a little more between each nudge of the ball. His weave wasn’t as tight as Shiro’s; he would go parallel to the pylons until he got close to one at which point he would go diagonally between them to the other side and repeat. Unlike Allura, he stopped the ball, walked behind it and repeated his method the way back. He bent over to pick up the ball close to the starting pylon instead of stopping it with his feet, carrying it the last few steps before placing it at the invisible starting point.

“Not bad, Hunk. Not bad,” Lance patted him on the shoulder. “My turn.” Lance quickly found that while he couldn’t extend his front legs outward, he could move them inward a bit. So his focus was on knocking the ball forward with the inner part of his legs as he made ‘S’ shapes through the pylons, knocking one over with his back hooves as a result of not paying enough attention. He did the same as Allura at the end, dribbling the ball in a U-turn before weaving back. He stopped the ball just passed the starting pylon.

Pidge stepped forward with a devious grin on her face. “Me next.” In opposite of how she approached the straight dribbling drill, she knocked the ball between her feet as she bounced forward in a relatively straight trajectory towards the green object. When she got to the first pylon, she stopped the ball just inches away from it with her foot and then with a cheeky expression on her face that she showed the others by looking over her shoulder, she used her foot to roll the ball around the pylon and nudge it forward so that while it was rolling, she stepped around the pylon and continued after the ball, picking up her technique where she left off.

Shiro snickered, trying to smother it with the back of his hand against his lips. Hunk tried to hide a smile and was failing. Keith smirked, his arms folded but the tilt of his head beamed approval. Lance was beside himself with amusement, arms wrapped around his waist, shoulders shaking with stifled laughter. Allura was once again baffled by Pidge’s lack of seriousness towards the drill. When Pidge reached the last pylon, she used the tip of her shoe to pivot the ball around it to where she could reach it again, pulled it away from the pylon’s opposite side and resumed her blase execution of the drill. Back at the start, she stopped the ball with her foot and raised her elbows above her head, her hands behind it, hiding underneath the snakes, and leaned to the side, cheeky grin still plastered on her lips.

“Pidge, I…” Allura was at a loss for words.

“You said speed and technique didn’t matter so long as the base goal was achieved,” she shrugged, hands raised at shoulder level out at her sides and a matter-of-fact expression on her face, one that was quickly replaced with a mischievous grin that she hid from Allura by running around behind her. She quietly low-fived Hunk as Keith moved up to Allura’s side. “That leaves me.”

Using his hands, he positioned the ball in front of himself. Like before, he stared at it for several minutes, only this time he had a curled finger pressed against his lips, his other hand supporting his elbow. When an idea occurred to him, a mischievous grin that was near identical to Pidge’s played on his face. He moved forward, intentionally crawling over the ball, pinning it beneath him and the training room floor. He continued on as though he was unaware of where the ball was, already moving to go around the first pylon. Just as the ball was about to be freed from the vice Keith put it in, he wrapped the end of his tail around it, securing it in a tight grab, and basically dragged the captured ball behind him. Once he had secured it, he sped as fast as his snake body could manage through the drill, weaving tightly between the pylons with just enough space between them and himself that he didn’t touch them with his tail, even the greater bulk at the end of it because of how it was wrapped around the ball. He made a tight U-turn around the final pylon and sped back to the start. Once there, he scrunched up his tail behind himself, turned from the waist and retrieved the ball from his tail end. “Thanks for the idea, Pidge,” he grinned sideways, setting the ball down in front of Allura. She bowed her head, touching her forehead with two fingers and supporting her elbow with her other arm.

“Way to think outside the box, Keith,” Pidge cheered. She offered up a fist, which he just stared blankly at. “What are you…?”

“You’ve never done a bro fist before?” Lance asked incredulously.

“What’s a bro fist?”

“It’s like a high-five, something that two people do as congratulations for something successfully done. You bump fists together, like so,” Pidge explained, demonstrating with Hunk. She then offered her fist again, waiting patiently for Keith. The naga made a fist, stared at it for a second, then bumped Pidge’s with it, grinning. “I like it.” Hunk offered up his fist next to which Keith readily responded. 

Lance stepped around Keith so the naga could see him, offering his fist too. “Though I think what you did is considered cheating,” he said, no malice in his tone whatsoever. Keith bumped the offered fist. “Hey, I made the ball go where it was supposed to. No one said it had to be in front of me.” 

Shiro saw Allura’s discombobulated look and walked up to her, arms folded. “Don’t be so hard on them. It is kind of hard to take this method of training seriously given that back on Earth, most of us did this sport for fun, to burn off energy and spend time with friends and family. Lance seems to be the only one who played competitively and I’m sure that given the right atmosphere and time, he would definitely take these same drills with more respect. But I’m pretty sure you’re intent was to help us familiarize with ourselves, not to take things sternly.”

“R-right. You’re completely right. I suppose I lost my intention there for a while, I’m sorry,” Allura replied quietly.

Hunk interrupted her melancholy. “So what’s next, Allura?”

“The next drill I’ve got for you is defense oriented. One person will defend the ikkaku while the rest of you try to get the ball passed them into the net.” She pointed to the underside of the command deck where the goal was set up.

“Goalie! This is gonna be good. No one can block my shots!” Lance bragged.

“Remember what I said about ego,” Keith said dryly.

“The restrictions are a bit different. The one defending the ikkaku is allowed to use his or her hands to knock the ball away. Also, there are rakavica, a type of webbed glove, next to the ikkaku to help protect your hands should they come in contact with the ball,” Allura explained. “Who would like to go first?”

Keith slithered towards the goal. “I’ll go.”

“Alright. The rest of you, line up behind that line of konus. Each of you will take turns in attempting to kick the ball into the ikkaku. You can use whatever approach you like, so long as it does not involve the use of your hands.”

“Got it,” Hunk answered. He was the first to line up behind the pylons having grabbed the ball that Keith had abandoned. The others went after the unused balls Allura was standing with when they first entered the room. Keith found the rakavica and slipped them on, frowning at how his claws caught on the material as he did so and how they were just plain uncomfortable on the tips of his fingers. He would deal with it though. He lined himself up so that a length of his tail was lying across the majority of the invisible line that marked the entrance to the goal, double backing so that he was in the center; his tail was effectively acting as a blockade against most ground attempts. “That’s not going to help you, Keith,” Lance taunted.

“We’ll see.”

Hunk placed his ball so that he was centered with Keith. Straight on obviously was not going to work but Hunk knew his skill with the ball was very poor. Maybe he could psych Keith into thinking he was going to approach one way but actually go another? But, Keith was very observant and had an instinct to know how opponents moved. Still, all Hunk could do was try. This wasn’t exactly a life or death situation and there likely wouldn’t be such a situation, unless he was talking to Slav who would undoubtedly ramble off some percentage of realities where yes indeed Hunk would find himself playing soccer for such a reason. Shaking his head, he started moving the ball at a slight angle for a length and then switching to a straight approach for a length. He switched to an opposite angle slightly larger than the first so that he was on Keith’s right. The whole time he had been dribbling he was using the same foot. But then he switched to his other foot and with a mighty kick sent the ball airborne towards Keith’s left. Keith saw it coming though and lunged, blocking the ball with his hand out at the same level as his hip. Hunk grinned, “Bummer.”

Keith smiled, shaking out his hand. “Nice kick though.”

Lance took the next turn, waiting patiently for Hunk to move out of the way. He started dribbling straight ahead, clumsily guiding the ball left and right in quick succession in attempts to confuse Keith but the naga’s rapt eyes kept strict on Lance instead of the ball as Keith read his moves, his brain working to determine just what Lance’s play would be. Lance moved towards the outer edge of the goal and made like he was going to kick from there towards the center. Keith readied himself, hands up. When Lance kicked, the ball shot from the ground in a straight high-speed line that was unfortunately not as high as he was hoping it would be and to his horror, was aimed directly at Keith. Keith braced himself, arms at the ready in front of him. With a grunt, he caught the ball aimed for his middle just as it knocked into him and making him hunch over as the air left his lungs. Wincing, Lance was rushing towards him, hands hovering above his shoulders. “Keith! Keith! I’m sorry! Are you okay?!”

Keith took a few moments to breathe, coughing a bit. “Yeah, I’m… I’m good.” He let go of the ball and straightened, wincing at the protesting his abdomen was giving.

“How about taking a break for a turn?” Lance suggested as the others were drawing up close.

Wrapping his arms around his middle, Keith nodded. “I didn’t know football was so intense.”

Lance huffed lightly, “The more competitive stuff usually is. Typically though, players have conditioned themselves to be able to better handle a ball to the stomach, I think.” His hands were on Keith’s shoulders, guiding him away from the goal. Pidge stalled them. “I’ll take my turn as the goalkeeper so hand me the glove things.” Keith obliged, frowning at how they caught on his claws when being pulled off too. When she slid them on, she twisted her hands back and forth, her fingers not reaching the tips of the gloves. Shrugging, she took her position just slightly off center of the goal and waited.

When the others got back behind the line, Shiro took his turn. Instead of starting from the center, he started about a quarter of the length away from the side, dribbling the ball quickly at a diagonal. Reaching the spot he had picked out, he twisted on the ball of one foot and kicked the ball with the other, sending it airborne… right into Pidge’s unprotected face.

“PIDGE!!!” everyone yelled as she crashed to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geeze-Louise this one was difficult. I hardly know anything about soccer so for those who do, I hope I did the sport justice.
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated. If I messed something up with the paladins playing soccer please let me know so I can attempt to fix it.


	13. Adventures in Instinct; Take one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience. Family reunions/get-togethers are always exhausting for me.
> 
> So, this chapter is a few pages longer than usual. There was just so much that wanted to happen and I couldn't say no.
> 
> This chapter is unbetad.

Shiro was the first one to reach her side. He knelt down and scooped her up, her wings tucked under her and her head propped up against the flesh part of his right upper arm and the side of his chest. Shiro’s other arm was around her hips and under her lower back, holding her close as if she were a terribly fragile thing.

Pidge moaned, red blood trickling from her nose. Shiro seethed. “Pidge. Pidge, talk to me.”

“Sh… lood,” she replied, trying to raise a finger to his lips to shush her leader and failing; her finger went completely past his head. Her blindfold was askew, revealing her left eye that was pinched shut from pain, a single tear sneaking out from the corner and leaving a trail down her cheek. Her snakes were slack and hanging lifelessly. As Shiro studied her face, he noted the pink hue blooming from the bridge of her nose to her cheeks and up the center of her forehead. A strong emotion clenched his heart to the point it felt like it was struggling to beat, his chest feeling as though lead were being poured into his lungs.

“Pidge!” the others cried when they reached her. Just as she was shushing them too by waving her pointed finger erratically about, Shiro pulled her away from them, growling an inhuman growl, his body curling protectively over her, one wing extended slightly, shielding her from their view.

“Shiro, what gives?” Lance asked angrily. He gasped heavily when Shiro glared at him, his grey eyes glowing silver, his pupils constricted into narrow viper’s slits. Lance backed up hesitantly, his hands up in a placating gesture. “Easy, Shiro. We don’t mean any harm.” Shiro’s tail lashed once, tendrils of grey smoke snaking up from his open mouth.

Allura moved to stand in front of him, his response is to curl his wing protectively around Pidge completely, hiding her and his lower face behind it. Undaunted, Allura reached out her hand as though to touch his wing. “Shiro, it’s princess Allura. I intend Pidge no ill will. Will you let me examine her?” Shiro snarled and whipped his long tail at her, slapping her hand away from his wing with a force that stung her arm. She immediately drew back, warning clearly received. Straightening and rubbing her wrist, she called out, “Pidge, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, All’ra, y’all er lo’d,” she complained, her words slurred.

“We need your help to get to Shiro, his instincts have taken over. Find some way to ground him, bring him back.”

“I’ll dry.” With great effort, Pidge opened the one eye not covered by her blindfold. Everything was blurry as though she was looking through congealed sugar. She could barely make out Shiro’s head though and struggled to raise her arm again, which for some reason did not want to listen to her commands. It wavered when she was able to lift it and as gently as she could, she cupped her hand around Shiro’s cheek, grabbing his attention. He looked down at her with his eyes at first, then bowed his head. Pidge cracked a weak smile, tasting her own blood as it spilled from her upper lip. Shiro inhaled deeply, scenting the blood which agitated him even more; he lashed his tail again. Though her head throbbed, she tried to sit up under her own power, something he protested against by holding her closer. “Shiro, dat kin’a ‘urts,” she grumbled. A deep growl rumbled in his chest as he released her waist and wiped away the blood from her upper lip with his flesh hand. Still, it exuded from her nostrils. He frowned. Feeling the frown on her hand, she gently stroked his cheek with her thumb. “Lis’en t’ me, Shiro. I ‘no I ga ‘urt, but dis de’ree of fushing ids not do’n ‘nyone ‘ny gud. The odhers er worry too ‘n ‘oo chas’n em off idn’t ‘elping.” The rumbling stopped and he took in a deep breath. She continued to stroke his cheek.

More blood touched her lip and she reflexively licked it, grimacing at the taste. Shiro wiped it away again and then grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it in attempts to staunch the bleeding with it, showing Lance behind him a dorsal line of dark black scales that expanded just slightly beyond his spine like smeared paint and how they similarly peeked out from underneath the waistband of his swim trunks. Feeling the movement, Pidge used her hand to push his flesh one down and then with her sleeve, tried to stop the bleeding herself. With her other arm, she pushed against him again in attempts to sit upright on his leg and lean against his chest. He refused her at first but when she grumbled an incoherent complaint, he relaxed his hold.

“Shiro,” Keith said quietly. He had taken Allura’s place in front of the dragon, his sight of Pidge still blocked by Shiro’s dark wing. “Shiro, it’s Keith. Do you remember me?” His left hand was spread over his chest, his right hand raised at chest level in front of him, ready to reach out but patiently holding back. “Shiro? Do you know where you are?” His tongue was regularly flicking in and out of his mouth during the moments when he wasn’t talking.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Keith?” Hunk worried as he stood to the side of him.

Keith looked at Hunk, explaining, “I’m the one who has known Shiro the longest. If he’s going to recognize anyone, it’s likely to be me.”

“‘is’en, Siro. Id’s Keef. Can ‘u ear im?” Pidge asked. Her vision was still blurry and the throbbing of her head was intense, with each beat of her heart it felt like a jackhammer was trying to get out of her skull. Freeing her other arm that was wedged between herself and Shiro’s chest with some difficulty, she reached up and cupped his cheek, stroking it again. “Keef n te odhers nee’ to no I’m okay. Yu need to ‘et dem know.” Shiro just blinked at her several times before hugging her close and withdrawing his wing slightly so Keith could see her face at least. Only then did he look up at Keith, jerking back a bit as though startled. He flared his nostrils, light wisps of smoke rising from them.

Keith reached forward tentatively with his right hand, not towards Pidge, but towards Shiro himself. “Shiro, do you recognize me?” Shiro growled lightly so Keith stopped. “Shiro, listen to my voice, do you recognize it?” Keith glanced down at Pidge just long enough to see her arm under her nose. “Pidge, damage report.”

“B’ody d’ose an trobbing heanache, nod un’eard of wiff ‘ett’n a ball to da fass,” she answered, her words slurred still and muffled slightly by her sleeve. She had her eye shut again, the pain of her headache making it not worth keeping it open.

“Hunk, get the emergency medical kit in the command room,” Allura instructed. “There should be a compress in it to help stop the bleeding.”

“On it.” Hunk sped off, the thump of his boots hitting the floor aggravating Pidge’s headache.

“Shiro, we’re getting something to help Pidge. We need you to let us help her,” Keith said calmly, quietly. Shiro looked down at Pidge again, studying her. Her hand was still against his cheek. She let it drop so she could wrap her arm around the back of his neck, shifting to get more comfortable. Shiro shifted to accommodate her, wrapping his flesh arm under her legs to support more of her weight. “Shiro,” Keith said again to get his attention. Once he had it, Keith began to move towards him once more, both arms aimed for Shiro’s shoulders. “Can I touch you?” Keith’s tongue was going mad now, flicking in the air every five or six seconds. Shiro watched him intently, possibly mesmerized by Keith’s black tongue. When Keith’s hands were just above the dragon’s shoulders, he paused. “Shiro, I’m going to touch you. It’s me touching you, okay.”

“ S‘iro, tat’s Keef. Keef’s a fr’en, e’s not go’in to ‘urt me, or yu,” Pidge added, cracking her eye open slightly to see Keith’s red jacket on his outstretched arm. Shiro breathed in deeply, taking in scents, his tail quivering. The brilliance of his eyes flared the moment Keith let his hands touch Shiro’s shoulders, remaining for almost two minutes before dimming slowly, eventually fading entirely. The viper pupils relaxed, morphing back into human eyes. Shiro gasped harshly, taking several breaths that were on the verge of hyperventilating. “Shiro?” Pidge queried calmly. He looked at her, then back at Keith, and then back at her again, his breaths slowing down as recognition filled his mind.

Keith squeezed Shiro’s shoulders firmly. “Welcome back.”

“Wh-what, where? What’s happening?” Shiro asked, his voice rough.

“I’ve got the first aid kit,” Hunk announced as he ran up. Hunk’s movement caught Shiro’s attention. He looked at the approaching troll, then at the kit in his hand. The memory of Pidge taking a ball to the head came rushing back and he jerked his head back to her, eyes wide with alarm and fear. “Pidge!”

“I’m ah’ight. Gla ta see yu bah,” she shifted again. Shiro retracted his wing back against his back when Hunk approached with the kit. He set it on the ground, popped it open and found the gauze. “Here Pidge, use this.” Noting that she wasn’t tracking his movements, he reached over Keith’s arm and moved her arm from underneath her nose, pinching the gauze around it, holding it there before she caught on and grabbed it herself. Shiro shifted so Pidge could lean her head a little more forward. “How’s the head?” Hunk asked quietly.

“Id ‘urts. Took ah ard ‘it,” she mumbled tiredly, looking in Hunk’s direction but not clearly seeing him. A few of the snakes on her head jerked as though she were trying to move them, but like her arm earlier, they would not cooperate and remained limp.

“You might be concussed,” Hunk commented. “Would explain your slurred speech and how you’re having trouble coordinating your movements. And definitely the headache.”

“Let me examine your eyes, Pidge,” Allura said, stepping up to the side of Keith. Keith let go of Shiro’s right shoulder and moved around so he was on the half-dragon’s left side, his right hand still on the dragon’s left shoulder, so he could make room for Allura to work. When the princess knelt and reached for Pidge’s face though, Pidge flinched and drew back at the light touch, finally realizing for the first time that her blindfold was down and she had been seeing, albeit poorly, through her own eye and not the eyes of her snakes. “No!” slammed her eye shut and fumbled vehemently with her free hand, accidentally hitting the back of Shiro’s head as she awkwardly pulled her arm away from him and grasped weakly at her blindfold, trying to pull it up. Shiro had to quickly adjust his grip on her so he wouldn’t drop her.

Allura placed both hands on Pidge’s struggling one. “It’s alright. I understand.” She firmly pushed Pidge’s hand away with both her own and gingerly righted the blindfold. Pidge sighed but then suddenly stiffened. “Wher’d Lans?”

“I’m right here,” he answered. He was back away from the group, arms folded, brow furrowed with tense worry, tail swishing anxiously behind him. Pidge went slack against Shiro, her grip on the gauze around her nose failing. Shiro put his fingers around hers, firmly pinching her nose.

“If she’s concussed, we need to get her to a pod,” Allura said, standing.

Shiro stood easily, cradling Pidge with his prosthetic arm so that she had her head resting underneath his chin and holding her under her knees with his flesh arm. Pidge tried to keep the gauze, mostly bloody now, under her nose but her muscles were weakening from fatigue. “Don’t fall asleep, Pidge,” Shiro commanded. She grumbled something incoherent. Without the gauze to catch it, blood dripped from her nose onto her shirt. Hunk grabbed more of the stuff and pinched it under her nose.

The team filed out the main door at a quick speed, Shiro and Hunk leading the pace as it was awkward for Hunk to walk and hold pressure on Pidge’s bleeding nose, not only that, Shiro didn’t want to jostle her too much by running. Allura paused at the doorway where the com was, activating it. “Coran, there’s been an accident and Pidge is injured. Get to the control room as quick as you can.”

“On my way, princess,” Coran instantly replied.

Pidge fought to stay awake, she really did. But the light jostling from Shiro’s speed walking and particular gate was like subtle rocking to her, lulling her to the bliss of unconsciousness where the pain beating against her skull wouldn’t reach her. If it weren’t for the sudden painful jerks coming from Hunk’s fingers under her nose, she would have completely slipped under. “How mud fa’der,” she groaned.

“We’re here, Pidge. Just a bit longer, then you can sleep,” Shiro answered, his pace slowing.

As if it could sense it was needed, a single pod rose from the ground, the very same one that had held Allura for 10,000 years and then Lance for a time. Allura hurried up to it, beckoning Shiro over. “There isn’t a vestiture for her to change into that will accommodate her wings. Some parameters will have to be changed, but the pod can work with her regular clothing. Being a head injury I honestly don’t think much will need to be adjusted.”

Hunk pulled away from Pidge, thankfully her nose had stopped dripping blood so quickly and had started to coagulate. “Okay, Pidge, brace for some slight jostling,” Shiro warned as he dropped to one knee, lowering her legs down first so her feet were in the pod. She hissed as her head throbbed with more fervor, earning rambled apologies from him as he steadied her, his hands under her arms even after she had regained enough of her strength and energy to stand up straight.

The whoosh of doors announced Coran’s arrival. He was immediately at the control podium bringing up several screens. “The pod is ready. Everyone, please step away.”

“Now you can sleep, Pidge,” Shiro whispered as he released her. Pidge managed a faint smile as the pod sealed itself, its inner workings somehow keeping her vertical, allowing her to tilt her head back and feel as though she were laying flat on a bed. The raging pain slowly trickled away as sleep moved in. Shiro watched on, an anguished look of guilt ruining his face.

“Primary scans read that the head injury isn’t critically serious. Interestingly enough, base scans are insisting that Pidge is still considered of the human species,” Coran informed everyone as he worked.

“What does that mean?” Keith asked. He had stationed himself at the bottom of the steps in front of the pod, adjacent to the podium, gathering his tail up behind him so others wouldn’t trip on it. Lance stood to the right of the podium while Hunk had replaced Allura on the left of the pod. Allura had gone to stand next to Coran to look over the information feeding through the screens. “I don’t know, Keith,” she responded. “But it is intriguing as well as an important detail.”

“Given the trauma to her brain and the slight fracture on the back of her cranium and to her nasal septum, Pidge will need to remain in the pod for anywhere between thirteen to fifteen vargas,” Coran said.

“Why so long?” Lance asked, his brow furrowed and arms slack at his sides.

“As a precaution, I’ve programmed the pod to run other types of monitors aside from the basic cardiac, metabolic, neural, and pulmonary. These monitors take away from the pod’s speed to heal the occupant. The initial scan may say she’s human, but the subsequent scans aren’t very supportive of that claim.”

“Can’t be helped then,” Hunk commented, shrugging.

“You all are free to do as you wish while Pidge heals,” Allura said.

None of the paladins moved from their spot. Allura expected their reluctance. 

Coran fiddled with the screens above the podium for a bit before saying, “Alerts have been set to notify us if anything changes. You paladins need not feel you have to stand vigil. The stress will do you no good. I suggest finding something relaxing to engage yourselves with and ease your minds.”

Hunk sat down and took off his shins with a similar amount of difficulty as equipping them. “Thanks for the advice, Coran. I just want to stay here for a bit.” He fiddled with the equipment in his hands, rubbing his fingers along the length of one of the shins.

Lance bent from his waist to take his shins off as well. “Yeah, me too. To, to decompress and sort through what just happened, you know.”

“Absolutely understandable,” Coran agreed. “I’ll leave you paladins to yourselves.” The man put his arms behind the small of his back and was on his way to leave when something stalled him. “Lance, you’ll be happy to know that one of the larger bathing rooms is now available. Let me know when you would like to make use of it and I’ll show you where it is since it is a bit out of the way in relation to the paladin rooms.”

“Thanks, Coran,” Lance smiled faintly; it was good to know for future reference because, at the moment, all he wanted to do was make sure Pidge was okay. As Coran left, Lance studied Shiro, taking in the despondent expression on his face to the soldier stiffness of his posture, his agitation given away by the twitching and curling of the tip of his tail. Sighing, Lance shifted his shins to his left hand and approached Shiro. Standing to the left of him, just behind his shoulder - it was unnerving to be taller than the one he admired- he tentatively reached forward and touched Shiro’s forearm with his knuckle, the surprise contact startling the half-dragon. “Shiro, it was a bonafide accident.”

Shiro looked at Lance, sucked in a deep breath and sighed, bowing his head to his chest so deeply that if his head could go any further his neck would break. Suppressing emotions, he also folded his arms, pulling away from Lance’s consoling touch.

From the floor, Hunk spoke up. “Yeah, Shiro. I’m sure Pidge knows it was an accident too. We’re all different from what we’re accustomed to so it makes perfect sense that things will go wrong; it’s part of learning.”

“You couldn’t have known, Shiro,” Keith added. “Even if we hadn’t changed and were doing the sport for fun, it still could have happened; the probability of Pidge getting hurt would still be there.”

“I… know. I just need time,” he answered them quietly. It was obvious there was something else he was going to say and had at the last second changed his words to something he felt he needed to say as the leader of their team. The others let it slide though, knowing Shiro.

Lance gave Shiro a bit more personal space and laid down behind him, front legs tucked and back sticking out like usual; he placed his shins in front of himself before resting his gaze on the pod. Keith coiled up, making sure he was facing Pidge. He folded his arms and rested them on his tail and then on them he rested his chin. He was also in his own approximation of kneeling, the height of his tail stacked on itself once was at a height that would reach his waist if he were standing and therefore it was comfortable to lean forward against. Hunk remained seated, one leg bent at the knee and the other stretched out; he continued to fiddle with the shins in his hands. Shiro lifted his head in order to return to stare at the readings displayed on the translucent surface of the pod, unaware of the movement of his tail.

Several minutes passed in the thick, tense atmosphere which was being stirred by the curling of Shiro’s tail and the occasional swish of Lance’s. 

“So, a dorsal stripe huh,” Lance stated rather than asked as he played with the hem of his shirt. He had set his shins on the floor next to himself.

“What?” Hunk asked.

“Shiro’s got a dorsal stripe on his back.”

“I… wha… when did you…?” Shiro stumbled over his words.

“I couldn’t see the reason but, you pulled your shirt up slightly when you were sheltering Pidge and I saw your back. Judging by the blood on the front of the shirt, I think it was to try and stop her bloody nose. Anyway, you’ve got a thick line of black scales running up your spine; a dorsal stripe.”

Shiro flushed pink, the color reaching the tops of his ears.

Keith hid his smirk in the crook of his elbow.

“Cool! May I see?” Hunk asked, shifting to get his feet under him so he could stand.

That pink went a few shades darker as Shiro started to fidget. His tail started undulating lightly instead of just twitching and curling. “I would prefer it if my shirt stayed down, thanks.” Hunk’s enthusiasm deflated at that so he remained sitting.

“It’s no big deal, Shiro. I’ve got one too.” Lance thumbed behind himself, indicating his back as well as his horse half; not only did he have a mane, there was a line of darker hair that ran along his second spine. It was barely noticeable and required a light source to be at a particular angle. Either that or his coat needed to be wet.

“Let him see, Shiro. It’s just your back. You can even cover your front with those big wings of yours,” Keith said in a teasing manner.

“Still, no,” Shiro replied defiantly, complete with a frown. His folded arms tensed a little tighter.

“Why not?” Hunk asked kindly. “Are you embarrassed about being shirtless in front of other people?”

Shiro didn’t answer, the color on his face deepened instead.

“You so are!” Lance chuckled. “Who would have thought!”

“Enough already,” Shiro mumbled. His tail lashed once before returning to undulating.

“Are you shy about showing any scars?” Hunk asked.

“That’s only part of it,” Keith interjected with a stoic expression, easily reading Shiro’s reluctance to answer.

“Only part? What else could it be then?” Lance queried, his fingers around his chin in thought, mumbling to himself.

“That’s totally okay, Shiro. Lots of people are embarrassed about scars. To make you feel better, I have an appendectomy scar,” Hunk said.

Lance abruptly gasped loudly, pointing at Shiro, “Wait, don’t tell me you have an outie?” he asked monotonously.

Shiro went beet red. “No, I don’t.”

“He does,” Keith answered, smirking at Shiro in response to the half-dragon’s expression of absolute betrayal. “How… do you… even know that… Keith?” Shiro managed to squeeze out behind clenched teeth.

Keith shrugged. “Gym class, my first year. You were sparring with some older cadets. Matt I think, though I didn’t know him at the time, was the offender. Ring any bells?”

Shiro choked. “You saw that!?”

Keith shrugged again. “Hard not to. You two were being very raucous.”

“But your class was clear on the opposite side!”

“Not me. I was tardy. So I got an up-close view.”

“You shouldn’t lie, Shiro, especially around influential cadets,” Lance teased, arms folded lightly, head tilted slightly. Hunk chuckled.

“You three are horrible, you know that, right?” Shiro complained, turning on the ball of his foot so he couldn’t see any of them, going so far as to slightly shield himself, namely his red face, from prying eyes with his wings.

“Ah, don’t worry Shiro, you’re secret is safe with us. Pidge, Allura and Coran will never know,” Hunk said in an attempt to pacify Shiro.

“My niece has an outie. It’s adorable,” Lance reminisced, leaning his head back. “She doesn’t like others to see either.”

“Is that how you figured out Shiro has one?” Keith asked, eyebrow raised.

“It was an educated guess,” Lance answered, his head relaxing back into its neutral state.

Shiro remained silent. The room shifted back into the tense quiet again, stirred instead by Shiro’s nervous tail alone. After twenty minutes or so, Lance picked up his shins and got to his hooves. “I’m going to see Blue. I haven’t visited since gaining a horse half so she’s likely worried for one and maybe upset with me for not showing up sooner for another.” His stomach protested loudly. “And then get something to eat. I think we missed lunch.”

“Later man,” Hunk waved slightly. About three minutes later he spoke again, “So Keith, I’ve been wondering about something since this morning.”

“What?”

“Why do you coil yourself up like that?”

Keith looked around himself for several seconds. “I don’t really know. I have noticed that sometimes I do it without thinking about it and it just feels right. And it makes sense to keep others from tripping over some other part of my tail because it is a little over ten feet long when I’m ‘standing’.”

“Good point.”

“Might be helping with heat retention too but I’m not positive on that one,” Keith added.

Quiet settled in the room again. Shiro’s tail stopped undulating after several minutes, reverting back to just the tip of it twitching and curling. He even relaxed his wings, letting them return to resting against his back. Hunk switched between watching Shiro’s tail and watching the various holographic graphs on the pod surface. A noise sounding a kitchen timer coming from Hunk’s pocket broke the quiet. He reached for it, pulling out his Garrison issued phone tablet and reading the time displayed on it. “I’m going to start dinner. Hopefully, Coran hasn’t gotten the idea to cook for us since we decided to stay down here for a while.” Huffing as he got to his feet, he asked the other two, “Any requests?”

“Whatever you come up with is fine,” Keith answered.

“You always seem to know what to make, Hunk. I trust your judgment,” Shiro replied.

Hunk pocketed his phone and interlaced his fingers, cracking his knuckles as he stretched. “Well, I’ll figure something out once I see what the castle ship has made available for meat cuts. See you two for dinner?”

“Sure,” Shiro confirmed. Keith said nothing as Hunk picked up his shins, turned and left.

The atmosphere wasn’t so tense when the quiet filled the room again. “You know, Keith,” Shiro began sometime after Hunk’s departure, “You can go find something else to occupy yourself with. I’ll stay here to watch over Pidge.”

“Not happening.”

Shiro turned to look at Keith, finding a frown on the naga’s face. “What?”

“The last thing you need is to be left on your own. I’m staying.” Shiro was about to protest but was cut off by Keith’s interruption. “Before you even say it, don’t, because I know you’re not fine.”

Shiro sighed slumping his shoulders and bowing his head. His tail swished once before calming itself, no longer twitching. Keith straightened, lifting one arm to beckon Shiro over. “Come here, sit with me. Standing there is stressing you even more.” For several minutes, the half-dragon made no move aside from lifting his head to glance at Keith and then focus again on the pod. “Shiro,” Keith insisted. Sighing, Shiro dragged himself over to Keith’s right side, but he didn’t immediately sit, choosing to stand next to the coiled naga and stare at the pod. Keith rose from his kneeling height to his standing height and put his hand on Shiro’s left shoulder. “Sit.” He tugged down once, driving his insistence home. Stalling, Shiro did eventually sit down, crossing his legs and bringing his tail forward to rest in his lap, his arms still folded. He heaved a burdened sigh as Keith went back down to kneeling height, squeezing Shiro’s shoulder. “You’ve gone back to being almost arctic cold again. Are you hungry?”

“No,” Shiro replied, not looking at Keith.

“It appears that the hypothesis of your external temperature being linked your food intake isn’t right.” Keith paused to think, folding his arms and tilting his head. “Or maybe it’s incomplete.” He leaned forward onto his tail again, resting his chin on his arms. “Let’s try a process of elimination. What are you feeling right now? Aside from a massive amount of guilt?”

“I-I’m not sure. Confused I think.”

 

“By what?”

“Everything.”

“Okay. How much sleep did you get last night?”

“Overall or uninterrupted?”

“Overall.”

“Maybe four, five vargas.”

“How do you feel physically? Anything sore or strained? Or fatigued?”

“I’ve got a bit of a headache. It’s nothing major, I can deal with it.” There was a hint of irritation in Shiro’s voice so Keith stopped with his questions. Stopping had the added benefit of allowing him to think. His tongue started flicking again, testing the atmosphere. When he felt that the tension emanating from Shiro had subsided enough, he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Shocked, Shiro turned to look at Keith, his eyebrow raised. “For what?”

“Telling Hunk and Lance about your outie. It wasn’t any of my business.”

“You’re right in that. But, I forgive you.”

“Pidge might already know though, because of her brother.”

Shiro chuffed. “Why were you tardy that day?”

“Makeup test. Montgomery made me do it during lunch hour. I barely had enough time to grab a carton of milk for lunch afterward. And then Hamilton had to stall me even further.”

“Why the makeup test?”

“Montgomery was convinced that I cheated on it.”

“On what grounds?”

“Who knows.”

“Your temperamental attitude perhaps?”

Keith just shrugged.

“You’ll need to reign that in, you know.”

“Don’t start about me taking over leading Voltron. Nothing, and I repeat, nothing is going to happen to you.” Keith wasn’t looking at Shiro directly but, he could see the deep scowl on the naga’s face. There was a quiet stretch between the two.

“So, booted from the Garrison. How did you manage that?”

Keith was slow to answer. “I punched Iverson. He deserved it.”

Shiro snorted. “For doing what?”

“Claiming pilot error for the failure of the Kerberos mission. I stood up for you and when he vehemently insisted that that was the cause, I punched him in the face.”

“That shouldn’t have warranted expulsion. Detention sure and maybe some other disciplinary action but not expulsion.”

“Things changed after you left; after Kerberos.” Keith sighed. “Once I got to the quarantine camp they set up when you crashed, I punched Iverson again, hard enough to knock him out. I thought it was satisfying before but, when I found it was you strapped to their table, it was even more so.”

“I shouldn’t condone that vindictive behavior but, I kinda do actually,” Shiro laughed lightly. Keith grinned. They went quiet again. Shiro eventually let his arms relax, his hands in his lap. He would sneak glances at Keith, wondering what the boy was thinking. “That house that I woke up in after the crash, how did you find it?”

“It wasn’t immediately after I got booted. Maybe a bit shy of four months afterward, while I was searching for that energy source that ended up being the blue lion. It appeared to be an abandoned outpost of the Garrison if their insignia on a few dusty papers was any indication.”

“Four months!? What did you do before then?”

“I got a lift to the closest town and did some work as a handyman for money. Sometimes the jobs were over several days and so the person or people that hired me would let me bunk in a spare room or separate building. After a month of doing that is when I felt the energy for the first time. I searched the town for the source but realized in a couple weeks that it wasn’t there.”

“And the bike?”

“Sometime in my second month after being booted, I picked up a job listed by an older couple doing some repairs in their house. That’s when I saw the bike. The man made me an offer I couldn’t resist; if I could fix it up so it ran, I could have it. He let me work on it in his garage when I had free time between jobs. It wasn’t too hard of a fix but, tedious, not completely unenjoyable though. I was able to get it running in eight days but it wasn’t up for long-distance travel. I was able to expand my range for potential work though and was able to save for three parts that needed to be replaced before the bike was in top shape. After that is when I started venturing out from the town about two days a week, searching for the source.”

“So you just moved in when you found the place?”

“Pretty much.”

Shiro couldn’t think of a response to that so he said nothing. Keith yawned. Shiro snuck a glance again to catch Keith’s eyes drooping. He would snap them open only to have them droop again. “Keith.”

“Hm?”

“Are you getting cold?”

“A little. I’m not going to leave though so don’t tell me to.” Shiro instantly knew that he would lose if he chose to argue. So he stayed quiet. Keith inevitably fell asleep. Shiro felt it was his fault because he was probably the one making Keith cold.

The next thing Shiro became aware of was how he jolted at the sound of the doors opening; he must have dozed off. Looking over his shoulder to see who was entering, he found Hunk, who had changed into his normal clothes, carrying a tray with two bowls full of something still steaming. “I honestly figured you and Keith wouldn’t come to dinner. So I brought dinner to you.”

Shiro had the decency to look apologetic. “Sorry, Hunk. And thanks.”

Hunk carefully sat down in front of the space between Keith and Shiro. Setting the tray in his lap, he handed Shiro a bowl and a spoon. “Space stew.” After he accepted it, Hunk turned to Keith, saying, “And for yours, Keith, I made sure to... oh.”

“Yeah, it’s probably my fault that he’s asleep.”

“Why are you jumping to that conclusion?”

“He mentioned that my external temperature has gone down again. So sitting next to him likely dropped his temperature down enough to make him sleepy.”

“Even if that is the case, it’s not your fault. You’re not choosing to be cold on purpose,” Hunk frowned for a moment. Changing to a smile, he continued, “What you can choose to do on purpose is to eat before it gets cold.”

Shiro took a bite, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of meat, enjoying how it was falling apart in his mouth and releasing its flavors all over his tongue. He couldn’t suppress the slight grin that spread across his lips. Swallowing, he praised, “This is really good, thank you.” Hunk smiled and nodded, letting Shiro eat while he studied Keith’s sleeping face; his brow was slightly furrowed and Hunk wondered it if was because Keith was uncomfortable or if he was because of something he was dreaming about.

Hunk carefully leaned over and tapped Keith’s shoulder. “Keith, you asleep?” Keith’s tongue flicked out lazily in response; so he wasn’t completely hibernating. Hunk tapped again, “Keith, I brought you dinner.” No response. Raising both brows as an idea occurred to him, Hunk lifted Keith’s bowl from the tray and held it near Keith’s face so the steam could potentially coax the naga out of his stupor. Half a minute passed before that black tongue came out again. However, instead of staying in Keith’s mouth when it retreated, it returned and explored the steam coming from the bowl, the bifurcated tips waving independently about for almost a second before the tongue drew back. It did this twice more before Keith pried open an eye enough to see the hazy figure in front of him. “Hunk?”

“Hey there. Think you can muster up enough energy to eat?” Hunk asked as he pulled away from Keith’s personal space. Keith closed his eye and breathed deeply, willing himself to wake up, the smell taste of food fresh in his memory acting as a motivator. It felt like ages to him, but he was able to pull back from his tail to a reasonable upright position, shoulders slumped and head bowed with sleep. His eyes were still closed, lids flickering against his desire for them to open; why was everything such an effort? Two minutes of fighting left him the victor and he was finally able to open them. “Hm,” was all he could manage as a response.

Hunk offered the bowl, spoon in the stew, and waited until he was sure Keith had a firm grip on it before letting it go. Keith dropped down to his sitting height and held the bowl up to his face, his tongue exploring the steam again. “Smells good,” he mumbled. His hands and face were enjoying the warmth coming from the hot food.

“I made your stew with just seared meat and gravy. Though there’s a probable nine percent vegetable matter in the gravy, however, because of how I made it but, I really don’t think that much is going to affect your stomach.”

Slowly and with an incredible focus, Keith brought a spoonful to his mouth. His tongue investigated it first before he blew on it to cool it down. Given that the chunks of meat were bite size, Keith didn’t feel it necessary to chew and just swallowed it. The textures were pleasant and he was happy that there was something about Hunk’s cooking that he could appreciate since he couldn’t taste. “Is good,” he mumbled, feeding himself another bite. Hunk smiled widely.

Shiro finished his meal long before Keith did. Hunk didn’t mind, he waited patiently for him, happily accepting the empty bowl when he finished. “Thanks,” he mumbled, folding his arms and going back to sleep on his tail. Hunk chuckled lightly. Placing the empty bowls on the tray, he just about got to his feet when he noticed a strained expression on Shiro’s furrowed brow. “Alright, spill. Something is bugging you and that something is big.” Hunk narrowed his eyes at the half-dragon, daring him to protest.

Shiro drew back a bit, “I-It’s nothing.”

“Shiro, how many times do we have to tell you that it’s okay to ask for help?” Hunk pressed. He was leaning forward over the tray, seriously threatening Shiro’s personal space.

“Okay, okay.” Shiro’s hands were in front of himself, gesturing to Hunk to calm down. “I’ve got a headache and I think it might be tied to something.”

Hunk backed off. “Like?”

“A need to do something.”

“Like?” Hunk repeated.

Shiro sighed. “I feel this intense need to go and gather some things. Soft things.”

“So go do it,” Hunk responded encouragingly.

“What?”

“Go get yourself some soft things.”

“But… Pidge… Keith…”

Hunk waved him off. “I’ll stay here and watch over them. Go get some soft things and do whatever you feel you need to do with them. You’ll feel better afterward, I’m positive.”

Shiro stared at Hunk, unsure. He moved to stare at his hands, flexing them, then looked at Keith and finally Pidge. Drawing in a deep breath, he got to his feet. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“One step at a time,” Hunk offered. He was leaning back on his hands, tray resting in his lap. Shiro left the control room in something of a daze, his claws clicking on the hard floor.

He returned almost twenty minutes later with a stack of pillows. Silently, he made his way over to Pidge’s pod and paused, considering something. He then moved to the pillar to the right and dropped them. Getting down on his knees, he moved them around in a random way, spending several minutes arranging them in one way only to move them around half a minute after stopping and looking around, flummoxed. Hunk piped up. “Maybe you don’t have enough?”

“Maybe,” came Shiro’s almost inaudible reply. Standing, he left again, returning after a bit longer than the first time with three blankets, two more pillows and what might have been green pajamas. These he plopped on the ground next to the pillow mound. He picked out the green pajamas, folded them and set them aside. Grabbing one blanket, Hunk recognized it as Keith’s heated blanket, Shiro walked over to Keith and draped it over the naga from behind, pulling it up to rest on Keith’s shoulders. He studied the control panel for a second before setting it to the second of four settings and then returned to his pile of soft things. Hunk caught sight of Shiro’s eyes while he was turning the blanket on; they were like before, viper slitted and glowing silver, definitely a strong instinct driving his leader.

Shiro spent nearly half an hour fussing with the pillows and blankets. He would arrange them one way, frown, rearrange it, study it for a minute or two, then rearrange it again. After eight minutes or so, Hunk guessed that Shiro was either trying to build a tiny pillow fort or a small one-person blanket nest; most likely the later. When Shiro finally leaned back contentedly, the blanket nest was built so there was a layer of pillows covered by a blanket as a makeshift mattress, one pillow resting up against the pillar, and the second blanket folded at the opposite end of the nest. He picked up the pajamas and placed them in the center of the nest. Standing after a few minutes of satisfied observation, he just stood there. “Shiro?” Hunk called out.

Jolting, the half-dragon looked around, quickly catching sight of the nest. He whipped his head around to Hunk. “Did I do that?” he asked, pointing with his prosthetic hand at his handiwork.

Hunk nodded an affirmation. “You were definitely in some zone. But, now that you’re done, how is your headache?”

Shiro rubbed the back of his head, his other hand on his hip. “Better. It’s not quite gone but, there’s definitely an improvement.” He moved to sit on the steps in front of Pidge’s pod, his tail in his lap again. “I don’t understand why I felt the need to make that though.”

“Considering you grabbed Pidge’s pajamas, it’s most likely you felt the need to make it for her.”

Shiro folded his arms, turning from the waist so he could study her slumbering face. He had a stoic expression on his face. For several minutes he didn’t say anything. When Hunk got to his feet to head back to the kitchen, Shiro said quietly, “I don’t like the idea of having more aspects of myself that are out of my control.”

“It may seem like that way at first. Consider though, are we ever really in control of ourselves? There are some aspects that we obviously are in control of, but there are also others that we have semi-control of, and it’s a good thing that there are some that are automated because if we had to think about the process of doing everything our bodies are capable of doing, there wouldn’t be time to think about anything else.” Hunk approached Shiro and bumped his arm with his big leg. “The faster you come to accept change, the faster you can learn how to work with it.”

Shiro looked up at Hunk’s face and grinned lopsidedly. “Some sagely advice there.”

“I would love to take credit for it but, that credit goes over to my mom.” Hunk smiled. He turned to leave. “I take it that you’re going to be sleeping here too?”

“Probably.” Shiro looked around the room. “Probably in my bigger body too.”

Hunk looked around at the open space too. “I guess if you curled around one of the pillars in here you could fit.” He shrugged. “Lance and I are going to hang in the lounge and see if we can’t get a movie going. We’ll probably sleep there again too.”

“You should encourage Lance to ask Coran about better bedding accommodations before you do.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. See you later, Shiro.” Shiro nodded at the troll before he left. 

For a while, Shiro sat in front of Pidge’s pod and watched the graphs as they displayed their data. After several minutes of that, he walked over to Keith, a slight grin of satisfaction that heated blanket hadn’t fallen of him. Done with checking on his unconscious team, he walked over to the space behind the pillar he made the blanket nest in front of and shifted into his dragon form, the clothes he had been wearing tearing to shreds and the shins that were on his legs falling off as he did so; they were a lost cause anyway. Once shifted, he curled around the pillar in such a way that he could still see Pidge’s pod and Keith while at the same time his tail curled protectively around the blanket nest. That lingering part of his headache abated quickly after he settled, and he sighed.

Closing his eyes, he supposed he would dose for a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have my plotlines for future chapters but, I'm curious. Is there something you want the paladins to experience/figure out? If I can come up with a reasonable solution to an idea, I might put it in the story, giving a shoutout to whoever offered the idea as thanks for the inspiration (unless the plot point is one I've got planned for already).
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is appreciated.


	14. Adventures with Bonds and Lions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to work with the Lions!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not betaed.

A polite but insistent beeping invaded Lance’s dream world, pulling him from waters filled with sparkling seashells to the feeling of gravity pulling on his suddenly very heavy body. Prying one eye open, his hazy focus was instantly attracted to a holographic display hovering above the projector at the front of the couch in the lounge; Pidge was due out of the pod in ten minutes.

He yawned widely, pushing his torso up off the squishy block of not-memory-foam that Coran had brought into the room for him to try out, situating himself so he had his front legs underneath him so that he could ‘sit’ upright; it was more comfortable than the hard floor than a few blankets on a hard floor, that was for sure but, not quite right. Lance shook his head, nearly face-palming himself as he thought of that one finicky girl from that ancient children’s story about the three bears. Leaning to his side, he shook Hunk’s arm. “Hey, buddy. Pidge is about to wake up.”

“I heard the alarm. Meet you down there,” mumbled the troll lying on his back, his elbow resting on the floor while his hand waved erratically in the air. When it wasn’t a blatant emergency, or he had not yet got at least seven hours of sleep, Hunk was slow to wake and get moving… most of the time. 

Righting himself, Lance got to his hooves, stretched and then ambled towards the kitchen; he knew from experience that coming out of a pod left a person cold.

Flipping the lights on in the kitchen, he winced as his eyes adjusted to the brightness as the ones in the hallways were dim, indicative of the night hours. Quickly he got to work getting out the kettle, filling it and putting it on the range to heat. It was too early for coffee and he didn’t think that such a strong drink would be good on Pidge’s stomach right out of the pod. So he got some alien herbal tea ready just in time for the whistling kettle to test out its tune. Resting the tea cage over a mug, he poured the hot water over the dried herb until the mug was full, turning the range off and leaving the hot kettle on it to cool. Once he determined the tea was done, he removed the cage, dumped the used herb into the organic trash and headed down to the control room with the hot drink in his hands.

He found Coran at the controls monitoring the graphs from there. Hunk was in his familiar yellow pajamas, standing in front of the pod. Keith was coiled up at the bottom of the steps in what was quickly becoming a familiar look, wrapped in the heated blanket with a focused, stoic expression. Shiro’s big dragon head loomed overhead, eyes locked on the pod as the displays disappeared with a blip and the machine’s seal dispersed in a display of shimmering lights. Pidge’s limp body tilted forward to be caught in Hunk’s firm and steady grasp. She was quiet for several moments before mumbling as a strong shiver shook her small body, ‘...it’s cold…”

“How about we sit you down first,” Hunk said, supporting her from behind and once he was sure she had her footing, guided her to sit on the steps. Keith immediately approached, slithering up the steps and maneuvering around so he was behind her, shucking his blanket and wrapping her up in it. He then ‘sat’ down next to her and folded his arms, concerned but unsure of how to respond further, the rest of his tail laying on the stairs and beyond them in the center of the recess. Lance approached from the front, mindful of Keith’s tail and leaned down from the waist to hand her the mug of tea. “Drink this, it should warm you up,” he said. 

Each of the snakes on her head twitched as though she were systematically going through each one to find the one she wanted to have act as her eyes. Gently taking one of her hands, he pressed the side of the mug into her palm and held it there until she registered what was happening and secured it in her grasp with her other. Once Lance let go, she brought the mug under her nose and took in a deep whiff. “Tea?”

“My better judgment says no coffee after a concussion. Your head has been through enough for a while.”

“Spoilsport,” she gripped but sipped the tea anyways.

“Speaking of which, how is your head?” Hunk asked.

She didn’t answer immediately, sipping the tea a few times. Her snakes gradually became more lively, supporting themselves against gravity like they normally did. “It’s back to 100% I think. No throbbing headache and obviously I can form words properly.”

Next thing everyone knew, Shiro was sticking his big head in their personal space, eyes super intent on Pidge’s tiny form, his nostrils twitching as he took in her scent; if he were human he would probably have his hands on her shoulders and be looking her over. “SHIRO!!” everyone chorused in protest. Only when he was satisfied that she was well did he pull away, “Sorry, sorry.” Pidge just laughed, thinking about her dog Gunther and how he was also a worry wart when it came to either her welfare or Matt’s. As she sipped her tea, something dropped on her head, covering her face. Pulling it off with one hand, she stared at it then looked up at Shiro, watching as he lowered his head until his chin was on the ground a respectable distance from the group. “Are these my pajamas?” She shook the shirt in his direction for emphasis.

Shiro had the decency to look abashed, as much as a dragon could. “You’ve got blood on your shirt.”

“He also made you a pillow nest for when you got out of the pod,” Hunk added, pointing to the object of interest that was partially obscured by Shiro’s big tail.

“I’m not an invalid. I can make it to my own bed,” she commented, setting her shirt in her lap to resume drinking her tea.

Everyone could sense Shiro’s shoulders sag. Pidge immediately added, “Thanks for the thought though.”

“You should at least change,” Lance insisted.

“Here?!” Pidge choked, splashing her tea.

“None of us will look,” Hunk tried. “Besides, Shiro did go through the effort to bring them down for you. And the sooner we get your clothes washed, the less likely the blood will stain.”

“Not happening,” Pidge glared at all of them at once with her snakes, whether she was seeing out of all of them at once or if they were all acting in response to her refusal was a mystery.

Lance thumbed over at Shiro. “I’m sure he could use one of his big dragon wings to act as a privacy screen.” Pidge was about to protest again but, Lance quickly leaned down to her ear and added, “It would show a bit of appreciation and calm him down some. Hunk says he’s been pretty upset the whole time you were in the pod.”

Pidge shoved Lance away and sighed. “Okay, okay. I’ll change. Happy?” She downed the rest of her tea, picked up her shirt and stood, the heated blanket falling to the ground behind her. “You brought the pants too, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Shiro quickly answered, raising his head and gently retrieving the pants from the pillow nest with his lips, using a great dexterity similar to an elephant picking up something with the tips of its trunk, and brought them over to hang in front of her. She nabbed them and walked over to his side where his folded wing was. “Up,” she commanded, poking it. He obliged and when she was under, he lowered it in such a way to block her from view, making a point to keep his head in company with the others so she knew he wasn’t peeking. Keith retrieved the blanket, debating whether to wrap himself back up in it or save it for Pidge in case she was still cold after changing.

Coran decided that moment was as good as any to report his findings. “Well, you all should be at ease. The brain trauma has completely healed and same with her cracked skull and nasal septum. She’s good as new!”

“Did anything new come up while she was in there?” Keith asked. He had finally decided to drape the blanket over his folded arms and wait to see if Pidge needed it again.

“I’m sorry, Number Four. Most scans insist that she is still human, even a DNA sample scanned from a blood sample retrieved from the packing that was used to stop her bleeding nose. Body graphs support what we see with our eyes though, that she is not the same.”

“You said ‘most scans’. What’s the ‘but’ of the situation?” Hunk asked, tapping his fingertips together.

“Our technology, though much more advanced as you paladins frequently comment, is not very equipped to understand much about Quintessence. However, what our monitors did pick up is that there is a slight discrepancy concerning hers.”

“So there’s a high probability that we all have whacked spirit energy stuff,” Lance commented, folding his arms and tilting his head.

“Will we still be able to connect with our lions?” Keith asked.

“I have no problem connecting with mine. He and I caught up while you were sleeping yesterday,” Hunk replied.

“Same with Blue and me. I haven’t been in the cockpit yet but I can still connect with her,” Lance added. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head the other way. “Can you not connect with Red?”

Keith didn’t answer. Instead, he frowned slightly and looked away. 

“She probably wants you to come see her in person then. I’m surprised that you doubt your link because you and she have a very strong one. I mean, how else would she know where you were in the middle of nowhere?”

“There has been a lot of stuff recently that we’ve had to adjust to. Maybe she’s just giving you the space you need to do so. What about you, Pidge?” Hunk hollered in her direction.

“I’ve been with my lion, but like Lance, I haven’t been in the cockpit yet,” she hollered back. A few moments later, Shiro lifted his wing and she joined the group, the sound of claws tapping on the floor. Her wings were notable underneath her shirt, making the loose article of clothing rather tight on her. To the question on everyone’s lips, she promptly answered, “No, it’s not comfortable but, I’ll deal until it can be adjusted.” Her other clothes were draped over folded arms.

“What about you, Shiro?” Lance asked.

“Not personally, no. And I haven’t really talked with the Black Lion. I need to.”

“Allura would know more about the lions than I. Perhaps this question about connecting with their quintessence should be asked of her. But, that can wait until morning, paladins. For now, maybe a bite to eat for Pidge and then returning to bed?” Coran suggested, hands behind his back. While the others were talking about their lions, he had closed down the control panel subsequently after storing away the data about Pidge.

“A midnight snack does sound good,” Hunk agreed.

“But it’s like, two in the morning,” Lance yawned, stretching.

“Who cares. I am a little hungry and a bit of food does sound like a good idea. I don’t know about more sleep though. I think I filled my quota for the next 24 hours,” Pidge said.

Lance shrugged, looking at Shiro. “You joining us, Shiro?”

“In a few minutes. I need to return the pillows and blankets I brought down here.”

“That can wait until morning!” Lance protested.

Shiro gave him a look that blatantly disagreed with him. The centaur shrugged. “Fine, fine, have it your way.”

“To the kitchen it is!” Hunk announced and took the lead.

“I don’t think we can all fit in the elevator at once,” Keith commented quietly.

When they were out of earshot, Coran caught Shiro’s eye. “That looks like a lot to take back. Would you like some assistance?”

“No thanks. I’ve got it,” Shiro answered in a quick, truncated manner. Coran simply nodded, turned on his heel and left. Shiro sighed, took a moment to focus and shift into his humanoid form, and then stepped over to his nest, surveying it with folded arms. There was disappointment in his expression, one that he had wanted to hide from the others because he didn’t want them to worry. “Where am I going to put this?” he questioned himself, his eyes taking on a silvery glow.

Back in the kitchen, it just so happened that there was some leftover stew available for Pidge to eat. Keith settled for something hot to drink, wrapped up in the heated blanket once more. Hunk and Lance ate a quick fruit salad that Hunk threw together. Rather than go to the dining hall, they either stood - in the case of Keith and Lance - or sat on the counter - in Hunk and Pidge’s case - to eat.

“So, are we all camping out in the lounge again?” Lance asked hopefully.

“Not me,” Keith answered quietly, staring at his empty mug.

“Why not? It worked out just fine last time,” Lance complained.

“It doesn’t…” Keith tried to find an answer for the feeling that was overwhelming his body. “I just don’t want to, okay!” he finally snapped, slamming his mug on the counter and slithering off before an argument started. Instead of being angry about the refusal, Lance was concerned. “You think he might be sick?” he asked no one in particular.

“Maybe he’s just got a lot on his mind. He’s usually snappy and irritable when that’s the case. Think of the time we were at the Blade of Marmora base. He was pretty stressed back then and snapped quite easily,” Hunk answered.

Shiro caught the tail end of the conversation as he walked in. “I’ll check on him later.”

“What kept you?” Lance asked at the same time Hunk asked, “Are you hungry?”

“I couldn’t remember every place I pulled the blankets and pillows from, so it took a while,” Shiro explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Makes sense. You were definitely in the ‘dragon zone’ while working on it,” Hunk said. He pushed a bowl of fruit salad towards Shiro. “Hungry?”

“Not really, but I get the feeling that I should eat,” he replied, pulling the bowl towards himself and the spork that subsequently followed behind it. He leaned back against the counter to eat.

“So, Pidge, if you aren’t going to sleep, what are you going to do?” Hunk asked.

“Pour over that data that the castle picked up in energy cloud. I’m close to something, I can feel it.” She rinsed her empty bowl out and left it in the sink. “Besides, I don’t think I could sleep wearing my PJs like this.”

“When you’re clothes are cleaned, I’ll adjust your top for you,” Lance offered. “I’ll just need to bug Coran about sewing supplies first.”

“You can sew?” she asked in disbelief.

“Why does that surprise you?”

“That… that line in the simulator! I thought that was just ego!”

“Well, that was meant to be a joke, I was stressed. But, I’m an uncle and I come from a big family. It made better sense for everyone to know some basic skills to distribute the workload than just have one person alone required to do everything. I’m no professional tailor, I just know a few things about altering clothes.”

She was silent for several moments before managing a nod. “Thank you in advanced then. Just one condition, no frilly extra decorations and stuff.”

Lance just grinned a wide grin.

“Hey! I mean it!” she pointed her spoon at him in what she had intended to be a threatening manner but, honestly, how threatening could a wet spoon be?

“Alright, alright, I’m pretty sure he’s got the point,” Shiro interrupted. “How about we all go back to bed.”

“Where will you be sleeping?” Hunk asked.

“In the lounge again. So far it’s the only place beside the bridge and the control room that’s big enough for me not to feel cramped.”

“See you there, I’m going to clean up first.”

“Want some help?” Lance offered.

“Nah, I got it.”

“Alright. See you in the morning.” Lance waved as he left, Pidge following behind him, the clicking of her claws, though not as pronounced as Shiro’s, could be heard in a quick rhythm to keep up with the clip-clop of Lance’s hooves.

Shiro slid the empty fruit salad bowl in Hunk’s direction with a quick thanks before making his own way out of the kitchen and towards the paladin rooms. He mulled over his mind what might be bothering Keith; the transformation? Was he too cold again? Is he worried about the galra? Many more half-formed ideas flitted to his mind as he walked. Reaching Keith’s room, he rapped his knuckles on it. “Keith? It’s Shiro. May I come in?”

There was no answer. Was he asleep already? If he really was cold, it very likely could be. “Keith, I’m opening the door.”

The door slid open with a hiss revealing a darkened room. Shiro’s eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and easily picked out where Keith was. The naga had crammed himself on his bunk, the length of his long body coiled up on top of itself left little room between the head and foot of the small bed and the sections of his tail that were closest to it. Keith’s torso could not be seen and Shiro surmised that it was probably in the center of the coils where he guessed most of the warmth might be. “Sleep well, Keith,” the half-dragon whispered, letting the door slide shut. The clicking echo of his dragon claws was the only companion that accompanied him to the lounge where he found Lance lying on what looked like an inflatable travel mattress, blanket covering his torso up to his shoulders and bunched up at his withers and Pidge sitting cross-legged on the couch, slightly hunched forward over the laptop on her lap, face illuminated by the screen’s light.

Wordlessly he made his way over to the side of the couch and without a sound, changed into his dragon body. As he got comfortable, Pidge whispered, “It’s both cool and unnerving how you do that. By modern science, it shouldn’t even be possible. But then I am reminded every day that human science is far far behind what the rest of the universe has to offer. That one famous physicist would most likely have a field day to even witness a fraction of what we’re surrounded by.”

“I’m sure more than one historical physicist would want to be included, Pidge.” 

“There is likely some hard truth in that. Get some sleep, I’m not going anywhere and once Hunk gets here, I don’t think he nor Lance will be going anywhere either.”

“I’ll try,” Shiro huffed lightly.

When Hunk entered it was to the picture of a snoring centaur, the rhythm of typing and the sound of large bellows that was indicative of a large dragon sleeping. He stepped carefully around Lance, slipped under his own blankets and quickly nodded off.

Breakfast the next morning was uneventful, save for Keith’s absence. Even Allura was concerned after hearing about his outburst in the middle of the night and Shiro’s description of how he saw Keith in his room later. “You don’t think that perhaps he’s hiding an illness?” she asked the collective.

“No, I don’t think so,” Shiro answered. He seemed to be the most confident in his words but, that didn’t mask his concern. “I do think something is weighing heavy on his mind and like usual he’s bottling it up.”

“Think he might try to leave again?” Lance asked.

“He’s still in his room, isn’t he?” Hunk answered with a question of his own.

“There’s been no indication of a pod having left the castle during the night, nor anyone leaving either so it’s safe to say that he’s still within the castle walls,” Allura provided.

“I’ll go check on him. I want to change into my regular clothes so I’ll peek in his room while I’m at it.” Pidge offered.

“But, you’ve only finished half your breakfast,” Hunk commented.

“Wrap it up and I’ll finish it later,” she replied, scooting back her chair and nearly bolting out the door. Shiro sympathized with her; having wings wasn’t all fun and adventure like it was cracked up to be.

Nearly shoving her room door open herself, Pidge quickly changed into her cleaned clothes, a great sense of relief filling her being as her wings broke free from underneath her pajama top, the kind of liberated feeling that comes from an experience like breathing in the crisp clean air after smelling something especially foul. Getting into her shirt took a bit more coordination than getting out of it. She hadn’t really paid much attention to her new appendages. She knew they were there in the same way that she knew her arms and legs were there, but she hadn’t intentionally tried to move them until last night and presently as she was trying to quickly dress herself. Once she did get her shirt on, she huffed with mild annoyance. “That’s going to have to take some getting used to,” she said to herself. At least her shorts and shoes were much easier.

Nearly shoving the door again, she quickened her pace to Keith’s room and knocked on it. “Keith? You in there? You’re missing breakfast.”

There was no answer. Pidge poked the entry pad and the door opened with a hiss. “Hey, Keith, it’s not like you to sleep in so what’s wrong?”

Keith was not inside. Laying on the floor though was the discarded heated blanket, undoubtedly with an exhausted battery. Pidge immediately thought he would have sought out somewhere else warm be it intentionally or subconsciously. Since the others were still eating, she took it upon herself to find him.

She let the door close itself behind her as she ran down the hall to a panel that would display a holoprojection of a simplified layout of the castle ship. Typing in a few codes, she had the program show her where the hottest rooms were. Of course, the engine room was the hottest. The frequently used rooms were also indicated as being heated. And then there it was, peculiar and yet not surprising; Red’s hangar. A massive red flag, forgive her for the pun. “Gotcha.” Closing the hologram, she raced for the elevator and punched the button for the hangar level.

When she got to Red’s hangar she was gasping, supporting herself against the entryway wall with one hand, taking in the sight before her as her lungs fought for more air.

There, coiled up next to one of Red’s giant paws, was Keith.

Interrupting her was a beeping from her garrison issued phone. Hunk had sent her a text message. [Where are you and Keith?]

It had taken some time, but cooperation between her and Coran had enabled the Garrison trio to sent text messages to each other using a modified frequency that was broadcast only within the castle walls. [Sorry. Keith wasn’t in his room. I went looking for him and found him in Red’s hangar.]

[Is he alright?]

[By outward appearances, I think he’s cold. Something else is telling me he’s troubled. I’m going to try and talk to him, see if he needs anything.]

[Check in when you find out. I’ll tell the others.]

Rather than reply, she stuffed the device back into her pocket. She lifted her foot in preparation to step forward when Keith’s voice stopped her. “Why won’t you talk to me anymore?”

She subsequently felt that maybe she shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t be eavesdropping on a conversation that she obviously wasn’t part of.

“I thought we bonded,” he continued to say after a minute or so of silence.

She set her foot down slowly so as to not make a noise. She really shouldn’t be there but there was something in Keith’s voice that was rooting her in her place; utter loneliness.

“Is it because I’m different on the outside now?” he asked in a low voice. “You didn’t seem to care when I found out I was part Galra. You weren’t so distant back then. You even tried to save me from the trials and that was before I even knew. So, why now?”

Keith wasn’t one to cry, she thought. At least, not in front of others. But the crack in his voice just then jerked at her heart, sending a stabbing sensation through her chest.

“Did I do something to offend you? Tell me what it was! I’ll fix it!” His torso rose from his coil, head craned backward towards his lion. Though she couldn’t see it, she just knew as sure as she knew calculus that there was a burning intensity in her teammate’s eyes that was so characteristic of him, that told of his passion towards whatever his focus happened to be on. If he had truly offended his lion, though she couldn’t fathom how, he would go to the ends of existence to correct that wrong, that’s just who he was.

Silence snuck into the hangar, catching her unawares. If she didn’t feel awkward before, she sure felt so now. She found herself stepping forward, hesitant at first, unsure of what to say to announce herself, but still she was walking forward. “Keith?”

He whipped around from the waist, surprised. “Pidge?”

“We missed you at breakfast. I went to your room but, you weren’t there.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t hungry.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, acting as though she had not just heard him nearly break down.

“Talking with Red. I haven’t been here in person since… changing.” He turned away from her, eyes downcast, looking at the lion’s giant metal paw.

“My lion was quite curious about the whole transformation incident,” she tentatively began, coming up to Keith’s side and sitting down, not seeking his direct gaze because she knew it would make him uncomfortable. To convey a relaxed demeanor, she leaned back onto her hands. She wanted to get him to talk, but forcing him to do so would only make matters worse. “She wanted to know more. More about the myth behind gorgons, more about how different I feel, more about what it was like to have different appendages, stuff like that. She was very curious, like a toddler.”

Keith hummed a low note at that. So she continued. “I opened up my mind for her, let her experience for herself what it’s like to look through eyes that can’t see color, to feel the unfamiliar weight and presence of wings that weren’t there before.” She paused, shifted her weight so she could look at the claws on one of her hands. “She likes the claws, says that we’re even more similar than before.”

“She didn’t reject you?” he asked quietly, turning his head to look at her and yet he didn’t look up to her face but the ground where she was sitting.

“No, why would she? If anything, she was scared. She impressed on me very strongly the feeling of being alone in shadows with no idea where I was at first. After a quintent or so, she could finally sense me but it was like through radio static.”

“And… what did you feel… when you tried connecting with her?”

Pidge pursed her lips to the side in thought and shifted forward so she could support her head with her fist, elbow resting on her knee. She searched her mind for the best comparison she could come up with, determined to let Keith know that if he was currently feeling lost, he wasn’t alone. “It felt like a limb falling asleep, only without so much of the annoying tingling as it wakes up. I could vaguely sense her when I actually focused on trying to. To be honest, after the incident I wasn’t interested in checking in with her but finding the cause of the transformations. It was about a quintent later before I really noticed that something felt off. There was a presence that was muddled and heavy. It took time for that confusion to clear up, for our bond to become strong again.” She tilted her head in attempts to see his face to read his expression, if he had one that wasn’t his usual stoic or seemingly angry one.

He breathed in deeply, his breath hitching a bit, and sighed. She dared to ask, “You having trouble finding your bond with your lion?”

“Red is… far away.”

“How far?” She craned her head further, moving one of her snakes even lower.

“Far. If I were to compare it to distances, I can see her on the horizon, but she is very small, and I can only vaguely make out her silhouette.” He turned his head to meet the seeking gaze of Pidge’s snake. At first, she saw a sad, lost expression. But it was quick to turn to an angry one with furrowed brows and a frown. “Why is she being so distant? Your lion searched for you! Hunk’s lion searched for him! Lance even reconnected with his lion!” He looked up again, eyes burning and demanding. “Why isn’t she searching for me?”

Pidge got to her feet, dusting herself off. She gave him a few moments before putting her hand on his tail, feeling the skin flinch underneath it, reacting to the sudden contact. Looking at his balled fists, tight enough that his claws were just a hair’s depth away from drawing blood, she quietly asked, “You say Red has been distant. Are you sure it’s not you who is pushing her away?”

He whirled to glare at her. “Why would you say that?! Why would I be pushing Red away?!” he asked loudly, nearly shouting.

She focused all her snakes on him, giving him her full attention. “In no way am I saying that you’re doing it on purpose if that is the case.”

Keith drew his gaze away, “I’m sorry.”

“Look at it objectively; something could very easily be blocking you from reaching her. It could be a train of thought, a new instinct, or even something we don’t know about. Something else could be pushing your lion away from you even.” Pidge listed the possibilities on her fingers.

Keith relaxed his hands and sank down back into his coil, feeling drained. “How do I find out?”

“What’s that phrase that Shiro’s always telling you?”

“Patience yields focus.”

“Yeah, that.” She sat down again, hands in her lap. “How about having patience with your lion and focus on something else. Aside from Red, what else is on your mind? Tell me, or yourself, you don’t have to say it out loud, the first thing that comes to the forefront of your attention. Don’t dwell on it and overthink this. What you need is the first thing that surfaces.”

A tense quiet filled the hangar as he thought. “I didn’t think of it... until after you came out of the pod… and Coran spoke of quintessence... I can still fight, but I can’t pilot anymore,” he answered slowly, on the brink of hesitance. 

“What makes you think you can’t pilot?”

“It’s it obvious? I don’t have legs,” he looked at her from the corner of his vision, seriously confused by her question.

“You want to know a secret? Just between you, me and the green lion?” Pidge asked in hushed tones, leaning in towards Keith, hand cupping the side of her mouth. He had to lean in towards her in order to hear her words clearly. “My feet don’t reach the pedals.”

“What!? How have you been piloting all this time?” Keith did a double-take, rising from his coil with pure shock on his face as he stared point-blank at her blindfold.

Pidge relaxed back. “She adapted; we adapted. As we trained each day, we learned to work together on such a deep level that she adapted and I can pilot with my mind just as much as my physical body.” She gave the naga a wide grin. “I’m sure Red will quickly adapt to you as well. You both thrive on instinct when flying and can pull off some crazy maneuvers while doing so. It will likely be a steep learning curve at first, but in the short time I’ve come to know you, you never back down from a good challenge. And I doubt Red will either.”

His face softened at her words as he settled back into his coil. 

“Anything else come to mind?” she asked, a couple of her snakes bobbing as she sat level on the floor again.

Keith looked into the distance, seeing nothing as he consulted his thoughts. What came to the forefront were sensations from his body, like how overstuffed he felt as well as a bit lethargic and heavy. He considered that not being in top condition might be making it more difficult for Red to connect with him again if Pidge’s hypothesis about something interfering was correct. But, he didn’t want to talk about his physical discomforts. “Not really.”

She patted his tail lightly and then stood. “You’re cold. You feeling alright?”

“I’m fine. I’ll just ask Coran for another heated blanket.”

“That’s not been enough though, has it?”

“Well… no,” he confessed.

“Come on. We’re going to talk to Coran about finding you a sauna or something.” She reached over his tail and grabbed his arm, tugging upward and toward herself as she leaned back slightly. Reluctantly, Keith went along with her insistence, uncoiling just enough that he could slide over his own tail to move forward. When she finally let go, he folded his arms, both to do something with them as well as an attempt to keep warm.

Being a mythological snake with no ideas of how to take care of oneself was really starting to suck.

So caught up he was in his melancholy that he didn’t notice Pidge whip out her phone and reply to Hunk’s last text. [Keith’s coming with me to find Coran. I don’t think he’s getting warm enough so we’re going to see if Coran has a sauna or something in this castle.]

Ten seconds later she received a truncated text, [We’re headed towards ] just as Allura commanded over the intercom, “Keith, Pidge, wherever you are, report to your lions immediately. Today I want to find out how your piloting has been affected by the change.”

They had made it halfway out of the hangar before then. Pidge flinched hard before looking back at Keith who seemed both defeated and determined at the same time. “Talking to Coran will be the first thing after training, okay. Don’t focus so much on what you think you can’t do right now. Focus on what you can. Think positively and I’m sure Red will come running as soon as she can.”

Keith took in a deep breath and relaxed his arms, letting them fall to his sides. A small smile broke his stoic expression. ‘Thanks, Pidge.”

“See you outside, maybe, if Allura wants to go that far, which she probably does. Who knows.” Pidge shrugged and then jogged off. Keith made a U-turn and slowly approached his lion. He stopped at a distance where he could look up and see Red’s eyes. “I’ll find you again, I promise. Will you look for me, too?”

He suddenly realized that Red’s barrier wasn’t up. It had not been up since had arrived at the hangar to see her. “You are looking for me, aren’t you,” he said in a whisper, his eyes tracing down the lion’s front and then back up to her eyes. “Patience yields focus…” he told himself. Half a moment left a tickling sensation in his mind, one that he latched onto like a starving man who had caught the scent of baking food after being so long without smelling anything, having only a memory of what food was like.

Since no one was on the bridge, the other paladins didn’t use the zip lines to get to their lions. Lance was thinking about it though and came to the conclusion that not only would he not be able to support his weight with just his arms, he most likely wouldn’t fit in the chute and definitely not in the scooter. All of this he concluded as he galloped towards Blue’s hangar.

As Hunk ran, he thought about the others and how their changes would affect them. When it came down to a list of differences, he had lucked out; aside from some extra large teeth and body hair, he had pretty much remained the same in stature and physical proportion. Okay, maybe he was thicker limbed and had an accommodating main body if he had to be brutally honest with himself. He figured he could make it down the zip lines no problem, and then immediately thought about Lance and Keith; Lance was definitely a nope and Keith, he was so long now his tail would likely drag on the ground and slow him down.

Shiro’s mind was focused on the task at hand; evaluating his bond with his lion. Had it weakened after the change? Did the Black Lion still trust him like before? Could he still fight effectively like a paladin of Voltron should?

Pidge reached out to her lion, impressing upon her her excitement to begin experimenting to find what they were capable of and then from there, how to possibly improve it. She conveyed her eager apprehension to be in the cockpit again to which her lion reciprocated with a similar anxiousness but one that was being overshadowed by a need for answers as Pidge drew closer.

One thing that all the Lions did as their paladins approached them was study them intently as each stood in front of them, biological eyes gazing just as intently into the eyes of mystical machines. They were like this for several minutes, neither lion or paladin making a move. Their interactions taking place on an unseen level, one that was felt deep within that could only be understood in the slightest by another paladin.

Allura though, with her unique connection to the lions, felt something as well. Coran had told her about the discrepancy of Pidge’s quintessence and she had looked at the data herself to verify a feeling that had been bothering her since that momentous day. Now, one by one, she had the sensation that pieces were gliding into place. And it was five different experiences. With one lion, it was like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle snapping together. Another lion felt like a disconnected current finally being able to flow unimpeded once again. A third felt like eyes being opened to a world of color after seeing darkness for a long length of time. The fourth felt like reassurance and peacefulness. And the fifth lion felt like a warm sunrise driving away a deep chill that was both from the cold and from an overwhelming sense of emptiness.

Simultaneously, though their pilots weren’t aware of it, five pairs of mystical yellow eyes glowed brilliantly as the lions lowered their heads and opened their jaws, beckoning their paladins in.

“Let’s go, big guy.”

“Glad to see you too!”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

“Hello to you too, beautiful!.”

“Hey there, sorry I’m late.”

Allura beamed. “Great job, paladins!”

Coran butted in. “Alright. The next important question we must answer is how well you and your lions can work together given your recent changes. Because we all know that for some of you it will be a bit different.”

“Got that right,” Lance mumbled. The paladins were boarding their lions as Coran prattled and Lance found his added height to be a major nuisance; he had to hunch over greatly, even to the degree of leaning forward from the waist, in order to get into the cockpit. “These lions weren’t made for tall people, definitely not for centaurs.” As he maneuvered around the pilot's chair, he told his lion, “Just don’t squash me from behind with the chair okay, Blue.” Eventually, he was able to lay belly down in front of the dashboard, his front legs straight out in front of him, underneath it, between the control pedals. “Well, this is definitely problematic,” he commented as he grabbed the levers on either side of him. The lion came to life at his touch; the screen in front of him lit up in its familiar way, popups displaying their data on the far sides of it and the dashboard coming to attention. There was a satisfied yet slightly concerned emotion being impressed on his mind. “Yeah, I know, girl. We’ll figure something out though.”

Shiro found it incredibly uncomfortable to sit in the pilot’s chair with its straight back. There was barely any room for his wings too, given how big they were; he had to squash them so tightly against his back that he was sure they would fall asleep and that would be a trial to endure. Plus there was barely enough room in the width of the seat for his tail, even though he had curled it around his hip and had it resting in his lap. His feet were something else; the balls of them were wider than his normal human foot and the way his ankle was structured meant that he needed some extra space to work the pedals. Unfortunately, that meant his knees were banging the underside of the dashboard. “How did Zarkon fit in here?” he found himself wondering. There was a grumbling dissatisfaction impressed on his mind at the mention of the prior black paladin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologized. Once the feeling had subsided, he grabbed the levers and tried his best to ignore his discomforts as the Black Lion came to life.

As Keith slithered inside his lion’s cockpit, his sense of his bond with her continued to strengthen. Placing a hand on the back of the pilot’s chair, he moved around it and was just about to sit down when Red moved it forward. “Hey! Eager aren’t you?” Moving up to it again, he sat down, frowning at how instantly uncomfortable he felt; he had no knees or any such bendable joints in his tail so the way that it was hanging off the end of the chair was quickly shifting from uncomfortable to painful, like lying belly flat on a bed with one’s legs hanging off the sides just enough so that there was pressure on the knees from gravity trying to bend them backwards. Quickly he got up and looked around the cockpit feeling remorseful. His sadness was accompanied by Red’s mix of emotions. “Yeah, me too.” Not for the first time he was annoyed with how long his tail was, glaring at it while it lay around the side of the chair and stretching behind it. Keith brought it closer, shoving most of it under the dashboard. He tried sitting again and this time attempted to gather his tail in front of the chair in such a way that it wasn’t painful. He wasn’t successful. Further annoyed, he got up again and asked aloud, “Any ideas, Red?” The lion’s response was to pull the chair back and impress on him a feeling that was both as frustrated as himself while a sense of confidence that a solution would be found later. Keith huffed lightly and grabbed the levers as he shifted his tail around again so it would stop annoying him. Red purred in his mind as she came to life.

Pidge’s lion kept nudging her mind with an impatient inquiry. “I’m excited too but, we have to do things in order.” She plopped into the pilot’s chair which instantly moved forward. Foregoing placing her feet in the stills she had made to reach the pedals, she grabbed the levers and grinned as her lion came to life, feeling a bit sad that the brilliant green lights weren’t something she could see through the eyes of her snakes. “Maybe, since no one is around, I’ll take this off? You think it’ll be safe? I mean, Medusa could only turn people to stone by directly looking at their eyes, that’s why Perseus wasn’t killed when looking at her via a mirror.” The Green Lion impressed encouragement at the idea, so Pidge removed her blindfold and hung it on the arm of the chair, blinking rapidly as her own eyes cleared and adjusted to the light.

Hunk rubbed the top of the pilot’s chair in his lion while asking him, “Ready for this?” Feelings of steady calm were impressed on him to which he responded by quickly sitting down and letting the Yellow Lion bring the chair forward. Like the others, when Hunk grabbed the levers, his lion came to life. “Let’s do this!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the time between chapter 13 and this one. If you follow my tumblr, you would have been informed about the goings on. But the short of it is that I lost interest in Voltron for a while as well as ran out of creative energy to work on the story. I needed some time away. To make up for that, this chapter is as long (or nearly) as the last one.
> 
> I hope I wasn't too out of character. Taking a break from the fandom atrophied my sense and feeling of them which took even more time to relearn. Hopefully, I am doing them justice.
> 
> Please, if you feel so inclined and happen to have any, leave some constructive criticism.  
> And all of those who left suggestions and ideas for upcoming chapters, thanks for the input!


	15. Adventures with the Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Keith okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unbetaed.

“Alright, paladins. Despite the changes that you have gone through, we still need to be prepared for the fight against Zarkon and the Galra Empire. I shouldn’t have to stress the urgency behind the need to acclimate again to your lions and pilot them as efficiently as possible so, we’ll start off by having you form Voltron.”

“Yeah!” chorused the team. In unison they took off, shooting through their hangar exits and landing in formation in front of the castle ship. It wasn’t a smooth maneuver though, not for Keith anyways. Having nothing to support himself in, the forces of flying jostled him around a bit. It was made evident to the others by his rough landing; Red swayed and stumbled as she came to a stop.

Keith steadied himself as best he could. “I’m fine. Just… no legs,” he immediately said over the radio when the inquiring beeps came.

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” Lance voiced. He had slid around a bit but, his weight had kept him in place for the most part. He could feel Blue doing her best to take over what piloting he couldn’t do, given he couldn’t very easily use the pedals on either side of his front legs. She had even slid the pilot’s chair forward just enough to brace him from behind. Even so, their flying was also less than smooth; her stumbling was slight in comparison.

“We’ll take it slow then. Everyone, fly in formation,” Shiro commanded. His lion took off, followed seconds later by Keith and Pidge, and finally Hunk and Lance. Keith and Lance were shaky and showed trouble finding balance each time the formation changed direction. Like Blue, Red was doing her best to pick up the piloting that Keith was not able to provide. But even worse, the G-forces that were being exerted on him, with nothing to brace himself against, were making it increasingly difficult to stand upright and not end up tugging on the levers just to keep from falling over.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Lance pressed again, strong insistence in his voice.

“It’s alright, we can do this,” Shiro pressed. “Form Voltron!”

In response to the command, the lions increased their speed. But before they could even shift to form a humanoid robot, Keith lost control and collided with Lance, the force of which flung him from the front of the cockpit, over his own tail, to the back, hitting his head on the arm of the pilot’s chair as he fell to the side of it. The uncontrolled lion veered out of formation, tilting to the side in a corkscrew freefall as consequence to how her pilot had accidentally left the controls in failed attempts not to be dislodged. Thrown to the side, Keith struggled to right himself as well as regain control of his lion. When he could not get back up, he reached out to Red with his mind, thinking as strongly as he could about the actions he would take to pull the both of them out of their chaotic freefall. It seemed like forever to take effect but was less than a minute before the levers moved on their own and Red slowly righted herself. It wasn’t quick enough however, and she crashed on her side, bouncing once, twice, rolling once and coming to a sliding stop. The Blue Lion, which had been knocked into a aerial circular spin, regained her balance and control just in time to see Red smash into the ground.

Keith lay motionless on the side of the cockpit, his main body against the dashboard and the windshield, his tail strung over it, over the pilot’s chair, and elsewhere inside. “KEITH!!!” came four cries over four video screens as four lions, one skidding to a halt, landed next to the downed one. Hunk was the one out of his lion and racing up to Red. “KEITH!! Oh please be alright, please be alright!”

Still stunned and with tentative, troubled movements, Red righted herself slowly, wary of jostling her unconscious pilot. For several moments, she was unsure of what to do, impressing a sense of worry and concern upon Keith in attempts to rouse him. She could feel his mind coming to only just, a heavy cloud of confusion and pain weighing down on it.

“Red! You gotta let me in! Please let me in! I need to help Keith! He’s not responding!” Hunk pleaded, standing in front of her, staring fervently into her eyes, his palms together in a pleading gesture. She considered him for a minute before coming to the conclusion that he would be the best solution for helping her pilot and lowered her head, opening her mouth to allow him entry. Hunk wasted no time running in.

The very second he laid eyes on his teammate, saw how he was laying on his side with his back pressed up against the window, how his head rested on the dashboard, his arm stretched straight above it, Hunk grimaced so hard that he might have cracked a tooth. “Keith? Keith, can you hear me?” Approaching him slowly, he saw the beginnings of a bruise forming on the naga’s left cheek. Undoubtedly bruises were forming elsewhere. Hunk touched Keith’s shoulder lightly, “Keith?”

“...ow…” came a strained, whispered reply.

Hunk wanted to cry tears of relief just then, but Keith was not out of the woods just yet. 

Lance, who had been watching through video, complained, “I knew this was a bad idea!”

“Yes, yes, we know, Lance,” Pidge said, both annoyance and remorse in her voice. Through her video, everyone could see her downcast eyes and furrowed brow.

“Then why didn’t anyone listen?”

“I accept blame for this, Lance... no, everyone,” Shiro answered guiltily.

“Not all of it,” came Allura’s voice over the radio. “I insisted that you form Voltron. I ignored the fact that some of you aren’t in the best piloting state and I forced you into performing a task you were not ready for.”

“...’m alright,” mumbled Keith as he attempted to sit up. Hunk denied him by pushing gently on his shoulders and rolling him flat on his back, taking his arm and placing it parallel to his side. “Whoa, not until I’ve completely looked you over. You might have a cracked rib or something.”

“Can you at least move me to the floor or something. My tail hurts.”

Hunk followed the length of Keith’s body to see his tail hanging off the dashboard, on the floor and over the arm of the pilot’s chair in such a way that would make any creature with nothing but a spine feel more than just a little uncomfortable. “Okay, but you’ve got to tell me if anything else hurts. I’ll be as gentle as I can.” Sliding one of his big hands under Keith’s shoulders, he wrapped his other one over Keith’s hips and as tenderly as he could, lifted the naga up. Keith grimaced at the added discomfort of gravity grabbing even more of his tail but refused to say anything as he wrapped an arm around Hunk's neck to support himself and craned his head forward so as to not let gravity hurt it too. At least his tail wasn’t broken, he thought. But there were sure bruises up and down the length of it.

“How do you feel?” Hunk asked after he gingerly laid him on the floor. He made short work of moving the naga’s tail off the chair and laying it flat on the floor as well.

“Bruised.”

“Anything else hurt? Any sharp pains?”

“The right side of my head is throbbing,” he admitted, reaching up with his hand to the spot where he had connected with the pilot’s chair. Hunk batted said hand away and looked with his eyes first. But, Keith’s thick and dark mane of hair hid whatever was there from his sight. So using his fingers, he palpated with light touches on the side of Keith’s crown. He was not happy with what he found. “That’s going to be a nice goose-egg of a bruise. It needs ice as soon as possible. What did you hit?”

“The chair, I think.”

“In that case, how’s your neck doing?”

“Stiff and sore.”

“Probably the best not to move your head too much until we can determine if you’ve got whiplash.” Hunk moved to the back of the lion where a small compartment kept first aid and emergency supplies. There was a thermal blanket included and he retrieved that to use as a makeshift pillow. Searching through the first aid supplies he was relieved to find an instant cold pack. Taking that and promptly activating it, he pressed it against the side of Keith’s head. “Think you can hold this here while I give the rest of you a look over?”

Keith hummed his confirmation.

“Do you feel nauseous or anything?”

“No.”

“Any tingling?”

“No.”

“How’s your vision?” Hunk leaned over to look at Keith’s eyes, using his big fingers to push the eyelids back and expose them to more light. From what he could determine, they were responding as they should.

“Clear.”

“Does it hurt when you breathe?”

Keith didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a few deep breaths, wincing and then answered, “A bit.” This worried Hunk. “I’m going to lift your shirt up, okay.” Keith hummed an approval.

“Hunk…” someone started to say.

“How is he, Hunk?” Lance asked, cutting Shiro off. “Whoops, sorry, Shiro.”

Hunk winced at the large bruise forming on the left side of Keith’s ribs. Pulling the shirt back down, he answered, “I don’t have anything to check for internal bleeding. From my initial outlook, he’s battered and bruised but fairing well all things considering.” Hunk answered, facing the video screens. “He’s in no condition to be piloting back though. Looks like he wasn’t even trying to pilot from his chair in the first place.”

“Can’t sit in it. No legs,” huffed Keith. He was glaring at the chair from his supine position on the floor, and then at nothing in particular, totally irritated with the whole situation. If he wasn’t using one to hold an cold pack in place, he would be folding his arms.

“I’ll take the Red Lion back to the castle ship. The rest of you go on ahead,” Shiro instructed.

“What about Keith? If he can’t be secured in a seat he’ll just be jostled around even more,” Lance pointed out.

“Good point. Hunk, would you fly him back in your lion?”

“You think you can walk… er, crawl… move?” Hunk asked. With some assistance, Keith slowly sat up, his bruised muscles, chest, head and neck protesting. “Yeah.” Handing Hunk the cold pack, he said, “Hold this for a tic while I get up.” With both hands free, he twisted and used his arms to support himself while he worked his tail so it was properly underneath him. Once he was standing and the rest of his tail appropriately laying on its ventral side, he accepted the cold pack back. “I’m good.”

“I see now why you can’t sit in the chair. You have bendable hips but definitely no knees or other such joints to bend in the opposite direction,” Hunk commented. “There’s got to be some modification we can add to the chair to accommodate you so you can pilot safely.”

“I’ll leave that to you. Right now I just want to lie down and rest,” Keith replied as he made his way out of the cockpit, putting the cold pack back on the side of his head. Mindful of the naga’s tail, Hunk followed him.

Red impressed emotions of remorse, reluctance, and concern upon Keith’s mind. He patted her jaw while he slithered down the entry ramp. “It’s not your fault and I’ll be okay. I just need to rest.”

“She could use some too after a fall like that,” Hunk commented, taking the lead. The Yellow Lion had remained stationed with his head down but he had closed his jaw. Seeing Hunk approach, he readily opened up again. “We’ve got a passenger,” Hunk announced. The Yellow Lion responded with impressions of ‘duh’ and light humorous laughter. Hunk giggled along.

Inside the cockpit, Hunk took his seat while Keith braced himself as best he could behind it, moving his tail so it took up pretty much all the cockpit space behind himself so the door could close. “We’ll go slow,” Hunk said, grabbing the levers. Gently, the Yellow Lion lifted his head. Using the thrusters in his paws, he lifted off. The other lions followed suit. “See you all back at the castle ship. We’re taking the leisurely route,” Hunk smiled through the video.

Shiro guided the Black Lion down towards Red and picked her up using Black’s much larger mouth. Once he was sure the Red Lion was secure, he followed Lance and Pidge back. Out of concern and consideration of Hunk and Keith though, neither of them made any efforts to speed ahead. In the end, they all made it back around the same time.

Coran was waiting in the Yellow Lion’s hangar with a large mostly white device that had blue lines along its edges, in his hands. Once Hunk and Keith disembarked, Coran instantly approached the naga. “This will tell us if you have any internal bleeding or other injuries that require more medical attention than what Hunk has already provided. Given the beating he had just endured, Keith wasn’t about to protest.

The device was in two parts; the significantly bigger one was obviously a display screen while the other one was a wireless scanner that looked very much like a metal detector wand, only with a bigger face and a slightly domed back. “Hunk, if you would hold this while I scan Keith,” Coran instructed, holding out the display. It looked like a large and thick rectangular serving tray, complete with two handles on either side that were blue, and it weighed surprisingly more than appearances indicated. It wasn’t so much that it bothered Hunk, it just caught him off guard.

Coran pressed a switch on the wand and the screen lit up with a 3D graph of Keith’s body, undoubtedly downloaded from the castle ship’s main computer. The wand emitted a blue light that conformed to Keith’s figure as Coran slowly passed it over him, starting at his head. Wherever there was bruising, a light yellow to orange color would appear on the 3D graph; the one on his head was an orange and was very close to half the size of Hunk’s palm. The one on his cheek came up yellow. There were a few small ones on his arm that were yellow and then the one on his ribcage appeared a deep red-orange and spread across five ribs and was also spreading around to his back. “That’s some deep bruising there, Keith. You definitely have bruised ribs. Any harder and they would be broken,” Coran commented, moving to the other side of the naga to continue scanning. Once he had completely scanned Keith’s torso, he made progress on the tail in sections. More bruises varying from yellow to yellow-orange manifested on the screen. There was a red-orange one at the point where the tail had been hanging over the arm of the pilot’s chair in an unnatural fashion. Hunk whistled at the amount of them. Keith frowned at him, unimpressed.

“Sorry,” Hunk immediately apologized.

Coran put the wand under his arm and retrieved the screen from Hunk to look it over, zooming in and manipulating the graph on the various parts where bruises where indicated. There was a prominent clicking sound that preceded his next words as he looked up from the screen to focus on Keith. “Well, the good news is that there are no signs of internal bleeding or bruised internal organs. The most serious damage, though not too severe, is to your ribcage.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to feel it,” Keith replied, holding his side with his free arm.

“Cold compresses, painkillers and rest are the best we can offer since you currently won’t fit in a pod,” Coran apologized, shutting off the device.

“Come on, Keith. Let’s head to the infirmary,” Hunk suggested, approaching his teammate and attempting to herd him in said direction. Lance could be heard galloping down the hallway. “Is he okay?!” he shouted.

“I’m fine, Lance! Tone it down!” Keith yelled back, his head throbbing a little more.

“He needs to rest in a calm and quiet atmosphere is all, number 3,” Coran answered as Lance came to a stop near Hunk. “I’m going on ahead to the infirmary to find the necessary supplies for you.” With that, he clicked the wand onto the main body and took his leave.

Lance placed his hands on Keith’s shoulders and looked him over with a critical eye. Keith watched his face with a stoic expression. When Lance had determined for himself that his teammate wasn’t at death’s door, he backed away and quietly offered, “Would you like a ride down to the infirmary?” and turned around to offer his back to the naga. Keith considered the offer for several moments. “No thanks. I think getting up on your back would hurt even worse than getting there by my own efforts.”

“It’s okay. I was just offering.”

The three started on their way. Only a few minutes passed after leaving the hangar before Hunk asked Keith, “You took quite a beating and yet mostly came away with minor bruises. Are you made of sterner stuff? Do you think you’re made of sterner stuff because you’re Galra?”

“I don’t know,” Keith answered quietly, physically drained.

“What if it’s because he’s a snake? They can fall from major heights and be fine,” Lance wondered.

“Could be both,” Hunk mused. “What do you think, Keith?”

“I honestly don’t care. I’m just glad I didn’t break anything.” He relaxed the arm that was against his bruised ribs, letting it hang freely at his side. His other one was beginning to tire from holding the cold pack against his skull.

Pidge, her blindfold back in place, met up with them when they reached the cross-section where all the separate routes to the lion hangars met. Seeing Keith’s exhausted face, she asked quietly, “Anything serious?” as she slid into pace with the three of them.

“Bruised ribs is the worst of it,” he replied.

“We’re on our way to the infirmary,” Lance said.

“Where’s Shiro?” Hunk queried.

“He’s on his way to the bridge to talk with Allura. About what, I’m not sure. Probably about making adjustments to the lions, if that is even possible,” she answered, a finger curled around her chin as she thought.

“Speaking of adjustments, most of us need new armor,” Lance pointed out. “We should have figured that out before going out in our lions. I mean, is it just me, or does the armor help secure us while we’re fighting because I don’t recall being jostled around so much during our fights with the Galra.”

“What about when you and Hunk went after the Yellow Lion and got into a fight?”

“Yeah, I got bounced around. Not too bad though because I was in a seat.”

“There could be some merit to that armor hypothesis of yours,” Pidge concurred, thinking of her own experiences flying her lion.

“We know the armor can adjust to an extent but, how great of an extent?” Hunk asked the open air. “Mine adjusted to me way back when, and I don’t think it will have any issues doing it again. However, Lance, you, Pidge, and Shiro have extra appendages while Keith is totally missing a couple. Even if the armor is magical in some way, I don’t think it can change that much.”

“It’s obvious; we need to find someone to make us some new armor,” Lance shrugged, surprised that Hunk couldn’t figure that bit out on his own.

They all mulled over the problem the rest of the way to the infirmary. Coran was waiting. He had set up one of the beds to hold Keith in a mostly upright position, much the same as the chair that Hunk had set up the day prior for Keith’s bad morning. Since the foot of the bed could not be adjusted, Coran had moved a second one right next to it for Keith to rest his tail on. “Up you go, number 4. If you don’t mind, remove your shirt so I can see to that massive bruise.”

“Uh, you mind us sticking around for a bit or would you prefer us to leave?” Hunk asked as Keith tossed aside the cold pack and hoisted himself up onto the first bed. Having trouble lifting his tail up completely, he leaned over to grab it and manually lift it up with his arms, or try to anyways. Hunk and Pidge instantly understood the attempt and moved forward to assist, pausing at the last second with a questioning expression directed at Keith. “Yeah, thanks,” he granted. Pidge grabbed a section towards the end of the tail while Hunk picked a section that was in the middle. Swiftly they lifted it onto the first bed and curved it around to lay on the second one with the end near Keith’s torso, ventral side up.

Coran approached with a small jar, just marginally bigger than the size of his hand, filled with what looked like a green poultice. He waited patiently for Hunk and Pidge to move away. Keith looked at the jar, remembering the request. “Uh, can I keep it on? It’s cold.”

“I will need to apply a compression wrapping after application, so yes,” the advisor requested. “This poultice and the wrappings will keep the bruising and swelling down. You can put it back on after I have finished.”

“Okay.” Keith quickly shrugged off his jacket and laid it on his lap, wincing a few times as the movement pulled on protesting muscles. Keeping his belt on and before Hunk could repeat his question about Keith wanting them to leave or stay, he crossed both his arms, grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it above his head, flinching as his muscles protested even more before completely pulling it off and laying it on his jacket. The sight underneath it was artful to in its description of the abuse that had taken place; reds and purples spread like splattered paint across the side of his lithe body, notably darker between the bones of his ribs. Because of the way his scales had manifested along his back, the bruise was harder to see under the sunset colors that began at the very edges of his side, where the two zones met. 

Lance seethed in sympathy.

Pidge, unable to see the colors, simply mouthed, ‘ouch’.

Coran stepped forward and Keith obediently lifted his arm so the Altean could have unobstructed access. Oddly, with his gloves still on, Coran scooped some of the poultice out of the jar and gingerly began applying it to the bruising. Keith shuddered at the touch. “That’s cold,” he mumbled, trying not to whine. He could feel his whole body slowing down now that he wasn’t actively moving and it was making him drowsy and likely more irritable. “My apologies, number 4,” Coran said as he worked quickly. When he finished, there was a solid layer of green paste stuck to the naga’s side.

Setting the jar aside, Coran wiped his hands with a towel before grabbing a roll of bandages. Deftly, he made short work of wrapping Keith’s ribs, making sure that none of the poultice was squeezing through the edges of the narrow length of cloth. After that was finished, Keith hurriedly put his shirt and jacket back on. He was about to slide off the bed when Coran stalled him. “Just a moment, you had a nasty one on your tail, remember. That will need the same treatment.”

Keith wrinkled his nose at the idea of having that same stuff sitting on more of his scales; the stuff on his back was already starting to make him squirm and want to clean it off. He would have to deal with it though because the Altean was not about to let him leave the infirmary until the treatment was complete. So he relented.

Once Coran was satisfied and finished with his work, Keith made to bolt again and once more the advisor stopped him. “Hold on a tick, number 4.” He handed the naga a small bottle that had several blue capsules in it. “The poultice has a topical anesthetic that should help ease the pain. However, if it becomes too much, swallow one of these every four to six vargas.” Seeing Keith itching to leave, he gently grabbed one of the naga’s hands and pressed the bottle into it until Keith reflexively grasped it. “You may go now. No strenuous activity for the next quintent though. And I’ll be sure to inform the princess of your status.”

Keith nearly shoved his way out as he stuffed the bottle in one of his belt pouches, finding that he had to keep the section of his tail that Coran had treated off the floor so the wrapping wouldn’t be dislodged and fall off. That was both awkward and annoying.

The other three followed behind him at a respectable distance. “So, where to now?” Hunk asked.

“I’m going to my room,” Keith answered grumpily. He wanted to sleep and he wanted to sleep right now.

Pidge abruptly stopped. “Oh yeah! I was going to ask Coran if the castle ship has a sauna.” She spun on her heel and briskly headed back to the infirmary.

“Wouldn’t a sauna be a bad idea?” Lance asked. “Keith doesn’t sweat.”

“I think it would be fine if it were a dry sauna,” Hunk mused. “But, the fact that it could get too hot is a serious matter, considering it could do some harm than good.”

“If Coran says the castle ship has one, I’m willing to try it once if it means I can actually get warm,” Keith put in.

“Why don’t you come cuddle in the lounge then?” Lance asked.

“Don’t feel like it.”

“Now you’re just being stupid,” Lance huffed, folding his arms and swishing his tail, peeved.

“Lance, he’s all bruised up. Even I don’t like the idea of cuddling with a ginormous bruise on my ribs. That just sounds even more painful,” Hunk said in attempts to calm his friend down.

The centaur tilted his head towards the troll. “Okay, you have a point there.”

“So will you lay off then?” Keith asked as they reached an elevator.

“Nope. You still need supervision, at least for a few vargas. I won’t make you cuddle, so you can stay on the couch or wherever you want so long as it’s with someone or multiple someones in the same room.”

“He’s right, Keith. Bruised ribs are a serious matter. Just, bear with us for a bit until we’re sure you’re going to be okay,” Hunk pleaded.

Keith clenched his fists a few times as they waited for the elevator. He had hoped that it was subtle but Lance caught it. “Keith?”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s obvious you’re not. Are you that upset about hanging with us?”

“No…”

“But, there is something,” Hunk encouraged. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Keith moved forward to get in when Hunk asked softly, “Is it an instinct?”

Keith bowed his head for the few moments it took to pull his tail all the way into the elevator space. Looking away from the two with just his eyes, he answered quietly, “Probably.”

Lance slapped his forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Hunk stepped into the elevator, mindful of Keith’s tail, which moved to accommodate him. “See you in a bit, Lance.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m used to not being able to cram into an elevator for the time being,” Lance replied, giving a thumbs up with a grin and a tilt of his head.

When the doors closed, Hunk asked softly. “What are you feeling, Keith?”

The naga was quiet for several seconds, his black tongue rapidly flicking in and out, investigating the small room. “I want to be somewhere small, like my room. It feels… secure.”

“So you’re feeling scared?”

“Anxious I think is the more fitting term. I’ve been feeling it since Pidge was released from the pod. It wasn’t bad back then. Now… now I think I understand on a better level how Shiro feels.” He released and clenched his fists a few times more, fighting with himself to maintain his control.

“So the lounge is too open?”

“Something like that.”

The elevator dinged again, and while the doors opened, Hunk supported his right elbow with his left arm and leaned his cheek on his fist in thought. When Keith kept moving after exiting, Hunk followed. “What if we made something smaller inside that room? Would that work?”

“Like what?” Keith asked, his tongue still spazzing out.

“A makeshift cave out of something.”

“Like what?” Keith repeated.

Hunk thought some more. Just as they were in earshot of the elevator and heard its familiar ding, he suggested, “A pillow fort?”

“That might work.”

“What about pillow forts?” asked Lance as he caught up with the two.

“We’re going to build Keith a pillow fort to relax in,” Hunk chimed, relaxing his arms.

The centaur eyed the naga critically. “That’s going to be a long pillow fort.”

“I think a tall one would be better. What say you, Keith?”

“I won’t mind if it’s on the small side,” he answered honestly.

“Hmm, we’ll need about two dozen pillows, half the couch cushions, three thick blankets…” Lance began listing things off. He paused and looked at the naga. “Where do you want the fort built?”

“Um… in the corner?”

“Okay, so maybe we won’t need that many cushions… unless Coran doesn’t have any command hooks or something similar.”

“Command hooks?”

“They’re removable adhesive hooks that stick to walls but can be removed when they’re not wanted on the wall anymore. Genius things they are,” Lance answered. He and Hunk continued to talk about the construction of the pillow fort and what the best structure would be. Soon it all started going over Keith’s head. It seemed simple enough but, he was so tired and so sore that it wasn’t important enough to pay attention to.

He hadn’t realized where they had ended up at until the familiar scent of the lounge was picked up by his tongue. He had just about successfully turned around to head back towards the elevator when both Hunk and Lance grabbed an arm. “And where do you think you’re going?” Lance asked, clicking his tongue in a disapproving expression.

“Uh… nowhere,” Keith answered reluctantly.

“Go make yourself as comfortable as you can while Lance and I go gather building material,” Hunk instructed, pulling Keith into the room when Lance released his hold. Keith winced; the arm Hunk was pulling on was his left one and it was affecting his ribs since he was using his core muscles to prevent himself from falling over. 

The blankets and travel mattress that the centaur and troll had used the night before had been neatly folded up and either left on the couch or in the case of the mattress, moved up against the wall. Keith immediately scanned the room, the gears in his mind turning as he sought out which spot would feel the most comforting. When Hunk finally let go of his arm, he had been pulled up to the back of the couch. Immediately he beelined it back towards the door. He could hear Hunk stumbling over his words trying to protest and promptly explained, “I’m not leaving. I’m just… going over here.”

Hunk watched as Keith picked the corner on the right side of the closed doors and quickly coiled up in a small, tight coil, one that was smaller than his usual ones. His torso was in the center, leaning forward at an obtuse angle, his arms folded and resting over the top of his tail. His black tongue flicked out several times in the course of a minute before the naga finally settled. Hunk’s mouth moved to form an ‘oh’ expression as Keith’s eyelids slowly drooped over his tired eyes.

When Lance returned with a thick blanket over his second back, one pillow under each arm and a stack of four in his arms, Keith was half asleep. Depositing his load onto the couch, aside from the blanket, the centaur looked around and upon spotting the recipient of his current project, complained, “Keith, you’re supposed to wait until we finished the fort.”

“We’ll just build it around him. What design did you finally decide on?” Hunk asked, pulling the blanket off of Lance.

“Well, given that he’s in the corner already, I suppose we’re making a lean-to,” the centaur shrugged. 

“What about the command hooks?”

“Bumped into Pidge while raiding the closets. She said she had a stash of hooks in her room that would work. They’re not adhesive, more like magnets, I think. She went into some lengthy explanation about how they really work before I asked her to speak English. Anyways, she’s bringing them down along with her pajamas so I can adjust them for her.”

“So we’re all chilling in the lounge for a while,” Hunk smiled.

Lance grabbed a cushion off the couch. “So here’s how this is going to work…” he began.

He and Hunk had stacked pillows and cushions around Keith’s exposed sides, leaving only the space above him uncovered. It was at this point that Pidge came jogging, something held in her hand which she offered to Lance, the other hand holding her pajamas. “I only had five that could be freed up.”

“That’s plenty. Thanks for letting us borrow them.” He accepted them and instantly went to work placing them on the adjacent walls next to Keith, happy that his extra height was being useful for once, allowing him to reach over the sleeping naga to hang the hooks; two on each wall and then one in the corner. “Hunk, Pidge, hold this up while I secure it,” he instructed, holding up the thick blanket and extending opposite corners to them. After they each grabbed one, he took one of the adjacent ones and reached over Keith once more to secure it to the clip in the corner. And then the made short work of securing the blanket to the remaining four.

The finished fort was almost as tall as Pidge with a small opening closest to the door for an entry and the blanket draping over the stacks of pillows and even a bit over the entrance; It looked more like a tent in the corner than a lean-to.

As the three stepped back to admire the work, Allura came on the intercom. “Paladins, we’re headed to Olkarion. Please report to the bridge.”

“She’s just going to have to accept that Keith is currently out of commission,” Pidge said flatly, shrugging.

“He shouldn’t be left alone though. I just recently got him to agree to be supervised for a while to make sure he doesn’t get worse,” Lance protested.

Keith’s exhausted voice answered, “I’ll go to the bridge.”

“Keith, you seriously need to rest.”

Hunk went to the intercom and paged Allura. “Yes?” she answered.

“Allura, do you really need us on the bridge? Keith needs some major downtime and also should be under observation for the next couple vargas.”

A couple moments of quiet made him worry that the princess was going to deny his request. “I understand. It’s not absolutely necessary that all of you come. We’ll be jumping via teledove to cover the majority of the distance.”

“I’ll stay with Keith,” Pidge volunteered. “That way you have at least one fighter and one tech on the bridge.”

“Makes the best sense, I guess,” Lance replied. “Hail us if he gets worse.” Pidge just smiled in response. “Hunk, hitch a ride. The sooner we get to the bridge, the sooner we can wormhole and the sooner we can get back to Keith.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve already given Keith a piggyback once so yeah, there’s no problem.”

“If you say so.” With a bit of awkwardness on his part and stumbling on Lance’s, Hunk hefted himself onto the centaur’s second back and as soon as Hunk was secure, Lance took off down the hall.

“Something is eating at him,” Pidge commented, taking a seat next to the fort and leaning up against the wall. She dropped her pajamas between herself and the fort “He’s usually calmer than this.”

The only response she received was a deep sigh from Keith as he finally relaxed enough to drift off.

Pidge originally thought she would be alone with Keith until a series of squeaks that were different pitches intruded on her musing. Looking around for the source, four space mice came running into the room through the doors. The yellow one, Platt, paused at the dark opening to Keith’s fort and peered in, squeaking a few times in curious tones. Chuchule, the red one, climbed the fort and took station above the entrance, arms folded in a protective manner. Pidge giggled. “So you all are going to help me keep an eye on our beat up red paladin, huh?” Four affirmative squeaks answered her. “Thanks for the help,” she said as Plachu, the blue one, and Chulatt, the pink one, climbed into her lap. Before they could settle though, she scooped them up with her hands and let them settle there instead. Platt plopped down, deciding to keep watch from where he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter basically wrote itself!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and to those who leave comments and kudos, those mean a lot and on bad days, are the driving fuel that keeps me writing.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, if you've got any, please leave some constructive criticism.


	16. Adventures en Route to Olkarion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura decides to go to Olkarion to request some help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some anatomy talk in this chapter. Again, there's a tl;dr at the end for those who don't want to read that kind of stuff but still want to know what happens in the chapter.
> 
> This chapter is not betaed.

Up on the bridge, Hunk and Lance took their respective stations. Coran tapped at his control panel a bit before reporting, “Ready to jump, Princess.”

While Allura focused on manifesting the wormhole, Lance asked, “Why Olkarion?”

“The Olkari’s mastery of metal could be what we need to slightly adjust the Lions for you paladins. And the way that they’ve connected with nature has given them a deeper sense of the living beings around them. We all know the Lions have their own sentience so to modify them requires not only their permission, it requires an expertise that only Alfor and a few others had,” Coran answered just as the castle ship slid into the jump. “The Olkari may have the next best thing in comparison.”

“Could they make armor too?” Hunk asked. “Four out of five paladins are in need of some major design adjustments.”

“It’s another request we thought of, yes,” Shiro answered from the front of the bridge. Looking over his shoulder at Hunk, he asked, “How is Keith?”

“Odds are in favor of him taking a deserved nap in the lounge. Pidge is keeping an eye on him in case his condition declines.”

“We built him a pillow fort. Apparently he’s been taking a chapter out of your book, Shiro, and fighting his instincts,” Lance commented, his hands on his control panel pushing various buttons while giving his leader a look that was both disapproving and yet gentle at the same time. Shiro didn’t see it though, having gone back to facing forward.

“I wouldn’t say he was fighting them, exactly. More like having trouble processing what he was feeling and then coming up with a solution to answer that feeling. He was very open about it once I got him talking,” Hunk countered.

“What is a ‘pillow fort’?” Allura asked after they entered the wormhole.

“Essentially a structure made mostly of blankets and pillows, but also can include chairs and string, that is for the simple purpose of having a cozy place to relax in. Kids make them as sort of safe places or club houses while teenagers and adults make them to chill or cuddle in. They can look like tents or lean-tos or even bomb shelters,” Lance explained.

“So you made one of these forts for Keith... to feel safe in?”

“Pretty much.”

“What is it that frightens him?”

“I wouldn’t say he’s scared. He said so himself that it’s more anxiety than fear. I think what it actually is, is a self-preservation instinct. He’s hurt, bad, and so the best action to take is to lay low for a time to heal,” Hunk answered.

“He also said in a roundabout way that he’s constantly cold. I’m no expert but, isn’t that bad for reptiles?” Lance inquired of the group.

“The Ibabi are said to need a steady heat source, which explains why they aren’t a space traveling people. I’m afraid that though the castle is heated, it hasn’t been enough for him. Pidge did ask me about something called a ‘sauna’ but, such a room does not exist in this castle,” Coran answered, looking at Lance. His eyes were downcast, his expression apologetic.

“Maybe if we throw him in a hot tub?” Lance suggested.

“Do snakes even like water?” Hunk asked.

“He went swimming, so yes, maybe?”

“I think that was more of an attempt to become more familiar with himself. Perhaps even to learn how to swim as he is now should the need ever arise,” Shiro said, looking over his shoulder again as he spoke.

“Doesn’t that guy ever do anything for fun?” Lance whined.

“Fly?” Hunk suggested.

“Besides that,” the centaur groaned.

Hunk could only shrug in response.

“We’re leaving the wormhole in ten tics,” Coran announced and then counted down. After they exited, Allura stepped away from the main controls. “We’re approximately a varga away from Olkarion. You can do as you like in the meantime.”

“Well, I promised Pidge I would fix her clothes. Which brings me to this necessary question; Coran, does the ship have sewing supplies on board?” Lance stretched and swished his tail while he asked.

“Sewing… as in needlework or are you referring to tailoring?” Allura asked.

Lance looked at her, eyebrow raised. “Tailoring if I have to be specific. She threatened me with a dull spoon about doing needlework on her pajamas.”

“I’m sure we’ve got at least some tailoring supplies on board. On Altea, our clothing was made mostly by tailors who did not reside or work inside the castle. There were one or two individuals who were efficient in the craft and could handle minor repairs and alterations, but that was a secondary skill, not one that they were employed in the castle for.”

“Where did our pajamas originate from, since we’re on the topic,” Hunk inquired, leaning forward on his control panel.

“We have a large wardrobe of various styles of clothing for various purposes. We just so happened to have… pajamas, as you call them, in your size and corresponding paladin colors,” Coran answered, tugging on his lapels once and then twisting his mustache.

“I’m not going to ask why you have that many clothes,” Hunk mumbled.

“Coran and I will try to locate those supplies for you, Lance,” Allura began, “Once we reach Olkarion.”

“A bit later than I was hoping. I guess I’ll find something else to do,” Lance responded, meandering his way off the bridge.

Hunk straightened. “Is it just me, or does he seem restless?”

“He does seem to be a bit uncharacteristic of himself,” Coran stated, turning back to his control panel. “Perhaps he has something he’s thinking about that maybe he needs some assistance sorting through? Perhaps he’s homesick once more?”

“Having an ear to listen is usually what he needs when he’s upset,” Hunk informed, getting ready to stand up. Shiro beat him to it though. “Then I’ll be that ear,” he announced and hurriedly left the bridge, the rhythmic tapping of his claws a bit harsh compared to what had become the norm as he hurried out the door.

The first place the half-dragon checked was Lance’s room. When Shiro found he wasn’t there, the second place he checked was the kitchen; the boy did have an increased appetite and was known to snack on food goo if there weren’t any leftovers in the fridge. Coming up empty again, he checked the lounge.

“Hey, Shiro. Come to check up on Keith?” Pidge asked instantly upon seeing him poke his head through the opening doors. She was playing with Chulatt, poking and tickling the mouse while Plattchu sat on her knee laughing at the other mouse’s expense.

“Not my original intention but, while I’m here, how is he?” Shiro stepped inside and looked at the pillow fort, putting his hands on his knees and leaning over to try and see inside.

“He’s fine; I haven’t heard any troubled breathing coming from him or other such signs of distress. Though I do wonder if he’s warm enough in there.”

Standing straight again, he nodded. “I actually came looking for Lance. Did he come here?”

She shook her head, suddenly attacking Chulatt with her tickling claws, giving Plattchu a breather. “I haven’t seen him since he left for the bridge. Is something wrong?”

“I’m just concerned. Hunk is concerned too, said Lance was acting stressed. I don’t know him as well as Hunk does so I couldn’t tell.”

“Was he fidgety?”

“I honestly don’t know. I wasn’t facing him when he left the bridge.”

“Back at the Garrison, I noticed that when he was stressed or nervous about an upcoming test, he would get fidgety. It was minor and barely noticeable by most likely 98% of the rest of the people there, but I noticed it. And I think Hunk knows about it too. It was so minuscule though, like the twitch of a finger or an increase in his blinking.” She eased up on Chulatt, letting both her hands rest in her lap again where the two mice scampered into, looking between the two paladins as they talked.

“And yet his hands are so steady when he’s got his bayard in them. Back at Beta Traz, that shot. I never doubted him but, I was still amazed because something like that is no easy feat to pull off.”

“It’s because he trains. He wants to see how far he can go. And sometimes, I think he even trains for fun.”

Plattchu left Pidge’s hand and climbed up her arm, resting on her shoulder and staring intently at one of the snakes. As if of its own accord, the snake descended until it was eye level with the mouse. Plattchu squeaked, surprised, and then reached forward to poke the snake. The snake flicked a black tongue out at the mouse, startling it so much that it screeched and ran back down Pidge’s arm to hide behind Chulatt. Pidge chuckled.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Shiro responded, eyes wide with intrigue while a smile formed on his lips.

She shrugged. “Neither did I. I think these guys have a mind of their own or something like that. I mean, how can they have their own sentience if I can control them and use them as I see fit?”

“If anyone can figure that out, it’s you, Pidge.” Shiro grinned. “But, I really need to find Lance.”

“Good luck. I don’t know where all his haunts are. Any suggestions I have, you’ve probably already checked, right?”

Shiro turned on the ball of his foot, pausing to reply, “I haven’t checked the training room.”

“If he’s upset, I don’t think he’ll be there.”

“Then I’ll just have to keep looking until I find him.” With that comment, he left the room.

Having no real idea where to find him, Shiro found himself following Lance’s stressed scent. How he knew it was stressed he could not explain to himself but, it did make him walk a little faster to the elevator.

To his bafflement, he found the centaur with Kalteneker. The two were lying on the ground amidst the holographic grass, their legs tucked under themselves. The cow was chewing on something in a leisurely manner while Lance rubbed one of her ears.

“I’m not mad anymore. And you’ve already apologized once, that’s plenty,” Lance said when he heard Shiro approach, given away by the sound of his clicking steps. He didn’t look at the half-dragon though, his eyes watching Kalteneker’s ear turn towards Shiro and back.

Shiro stopped, one foot hovering above the ground for a few seconds as he processed what Lance had just said. When he finally set it down, he replied, “I didn’t come here about that, but it is reassuring to know. I’m concerned about you, though. Is there something on your mind, or anything you want to talk about?” He walked up to Lance’s side, just behind his back, unsure of whether to sit down or not. Kalteneker turned her head at him, staring him down with just one eye as she kept chewing on whatever it was she was chewing on. He felt as though he was walking on dangerous grounds.

“What’s it like, being a dragon?” Lance asked after several minutes of awkward silence, either unaware of the staring contest between a half-dragon and a cow or ignoring it.

“I don’t know how to put it into words, really,” the half-dragon began, still staring at the cow. “To be honest, it’s quite a pain.”

“Because of being too big to fit through the doors?” Lance cocked his head but still didn’t turn to face his leader.

“That’s part of it.”

“And being totally unfamiliar and weird and confusing?”

“I agree on all of those accounts.”

“And almost everything in the castle is suddenly too small?”

That question caught Shiro off guard. He had to take a moment to think about it before coming up with a response, looking straight forward but seeing only empty space. “Yes, actually. Though that feeling hasn’t been one that I’ve identified until now.” He focused on the back of Lance’s head, hoping the boy would turn to look at him.

“I’m happy I don’t feel alone in that at least,” he said quietly, turning his head just enough to see Shiro’s unintentional stoic expression in his peripheral. 

Kalteneker vocally complained, butting her head against Lance’s hand because he had stopped rubbing her ear. So he resumed his rubbing while he continued, gazing forward again, “It never used to bother me, how tight a space was. Coming from a big family, there wasn’t a lot of extra open space. Even the rooms at the Garrison were small. So it was unnerving for the first two weeks or so in this castle ship, to have so much empty space.”

“And now, it’s different?” Shiro hesitated.

Lance’s shoulders dropped as his head slumped forward. “I have never had a case of cabin fever as bad as this in my life!” his voice was earnest, almost pained.

“Is that what is upsetting you? Not that you don’t have the means to work on your promise to Pidge, but that you’re restless?” Shiro took a step forward and Kaltenecker instantly eyed him again, demanding his attention. 

“Having something to focus on helps.”

Shiro was flummoxed as to what to say next to help his teammate. So he slowly, ever aware of Kalteneker’s piercing gaze, stepped up to be even with Lance’s human side and after a few breaths, decided to sit down, pulling his tail around to rest in his lap. He could no longer see the cow’s eye but still had the feeling he was being watched. “Tell me about your family,” he tried. “You said you’re an uncle?” He could see a faint, happy smile stretch on Lance’s lips as he looked up, his eyes distant, pulled away in memory.

“I became an uncle when I was twelve. My niece, Nadia, is four right now. Her older brother, my nephew, Sylvio, is five. Nadia takes after my sister-in-law, Lisa while Sylvio takes after my brother, Luis. Sylvio is tall for his age and skinny as a twig, unlike his dad who is very muscled but not what America calls ‘ripped’. Nadia is small and shy, takes after her mom in looks, and like I said, has an outie she’s very protective of; only her dad and I are allowed to blow raspberries on it. Luis is soft-spoken despite his looks while Lisa can command any room when she wants to.

I’m the youngest of my siblings. Before me, there’s Rachel, Marco, Veronica, and the oldest is Luis. Then there’s mom, Wendelle, and dad, Nigel. Grandma, Venisha, and grandpa, Yuszef, both on my mom’s side. We all lived in the same house. At least, until I left for the Garrison. Then Rachel moved out because of her job. Luis and Lisa were talking about moving so Sylvio could go to a charter school. I was told that in my last letter from home, so I don’t know if they followed through with that plan or not.” His voice dipped low and quiet at that, trailing off as the homesickness hit hard. Kaltenecker butted her head against him again.

“Sounds like a close-knit family. What made you want to leave that and attend the Garrison?”

“Marco got me into astronomy at a young age. I decided I wanted to be a pilot when I was eight and worked my hardest towards becoming an astronaut. And then I heard about the Garrison and at first, I was daunted by the high standards it would take to be accepted. I almost gave up.” The centaur finally looked Shiro in the eye, his expression open with awe and gratitude. “And then I saw you, Shiro, on TV. You instantly became my hero, my role model. I wanted to be just like you.”

Shiro furrowed his brow, embarrassed. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked away. “Some hero I turned out to be. All that hyperbole that the Garrison surely used in order to bring in applicants, even I believed it at times.”

Lance shook his head ever so slightly, “You’re human, Shiro. Even heroes make mistakes.” he smiled softly as he continued, “What makes them heroes is not their flawlessness, as my mom said, but their ability to rise above their mistakes.” Kalteneker complained, getting Lance to rub her other ear.

“She is quite bossy,” Shiro commented, lifting an eyebrow.

“She’s just trying to help me feel better is all,” Lance smiled as the cow thrust her head up against his chest, insistent about something. “Alright, alright!” he laughed, rubbing both ears. She exhaled heavily, content. Whatever it was she had been chewing on, she had swallowed.

Shiro observed the two, a faint smile breaking his stoic expression. Lance looked at him, seriousness in his tone, “Do you think we’ll be stuck like this?”

Shiro looked into the distance, unsure of what the future held in store for him and his team but, wanting to provide words of comfort. “I think it’s too early to jump to conclusions. We haven’t asked the right questions yet, or the right people. Who knows, this may wear out by itself. We’ve only been this way for five days.” Turning back to Lance, “Tomorrow is never guaranteed, and while there is information during today that can help predict tomorrow, it is never assured until the future becomes the present.”

Lance chuckled, shaking his shoulders a bit. “That’s some sage advice there. Come up with it on your own?”

“I’d like to take credit for it, but, they are some words that someone told me. I don’t remember who, or when, but they are very helpful.”

The two sat in a more comfortable quiet for a time being, Kalteneker’s cow noises being the only steady interruption. When she had finally had enough of Lance’s ministerings, she pulled her head away and got to her hooves, ambled over to her feeding trough and munched away.

Feeling lighter in mood, Lance figured that while Shiro was in company with just him, now was a great time to ask a serious question that had been bugging him on and off. “Shiro, where do you think dragon man parts are?” He was looking expectantly at his leader who in turn had the biggest baffled expression that he could muster, leaning away as far as he could without falling over. “Excuse me?”

“Well, where do you think?” the centaur insisted. To give time for the half-dragon to come up with an answer, he looked off into the empty space of the room and scratched the side of his head before listing on his fingers, “It’s pretty obvious where a centaur’s are. And a troll’s I believe are the same as a human’s. I have no idea where a snake-man’s would be, nor a dragon’s.” Pursing his lips and wrapping a finger around his chin, he looked up. “A half-dragon would probably be the same place as a human.” Looking expectantly at Shiro again, he continued, “Or am I wrong?”

Shiro opened and closed his mouth several times, his mind blank. Finally, after several minutes, he found some words to answer his teammate. “That’s a pretty personal question there.” Attempting to school his expression, he added, “And what brought that up?”

“Necessary biological functions.” Lance shrugged, hands up as if it were obvious. “I asked Keith earlier where he thought a snake-man’s might be and he was decidedly unhelpful.”

Shiro sighed slowly. “Well, I’m no expert in mythological anatomy. And to help answer one of your questions, I don’t know where a half-dragon’s would be any more than a dragon’s.”

Lance’s expression transformed into one that was of complete surprise. “So just how much dragon is a half-dragon then? Or is it external physical attributes that are the dragon part while internal are human and the two kind of balance out creating the equal half-and-half proportion? Or could it be misleading and a half-dragon is more dragon than human but, half-dragon is just easier to say and more widely accepted.” He looked away from Shiro, folding his arms and tilting his head as he continued. “Or it could be possible that each half-dragon is a unique mix of the two, some more human than others and vice versa.” And then, curling a finger around his chin while studying the ground, “Are there even other half-dragons?”

Shiro tried to stifle a laugh, causing it to come out as a loud snort. Lance whipped his focus back to him, arms still folded, frowning. “Hey! These are serious questions here!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Shiro attempted to say without laughing, his hand on his abdomen as he struggled. “I just… it never occurred to me that biology would be something of interest to you.”

“It’s a very light interest. My main passion is astronomy and space.” He was quiet for a few moments, that distance look of memory glimmering in his eyes again. “When I was younger and thought about meeting aliens, I figured that they would look enough like humans that the differences between boys and girls would be obvious.” He snorted abruptly. “When I first saw Allura and then met Nyma, I thought for sure that I was right. But, then we met Shay and the Balmerans. Oh, man, did I feel dumb!” he laughed at himself.

“It’s not dumb to learn new things, Lance. There’s a whole lot about the universe that humankind doesn’t know. Both you and I, and the rest of the team, are constantly having our horizons expanded. You should expect that some commonly accepted theories are going to be disproved and even blown out of the water.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

An idea came to Shiro. He stood and offered his right hand. “To the both of us it’s considered quite small but, want to go to the training room? Have you practiced with your bayard since the transformation?”

Lance’s face was neutral. “No, I haven’t. I’ve been too distracted by getting used to four legs and everything that comes with them.” A recent memory came to him as he took Shiro’s hand. “I was able to take down two alien animals with one shot though, so my accuracy hasn’t diminished.”

“Well, now is a good a time as any. If stationary targets aren’t a challenge, we can always get some gladiators going.”

“Sounds good.” Still holding Shiro’s metal hand, Lance got to his hooves. Once standing, he let go. “Lead the way,” he smiled.

Kalteneker gave a huffing light snort as they left, probably her rendition of a good-bye.

“I do have another question; what’s it like to breathe fire?”

Shiro thought for a few seconds. “Like eating something that’s too spicy. That burning sensation on your tongue and in the back of your mouth and nose as you breathe through it instead of your nose.”

Lance laughed. “Now that is something I think I can experience then. I love spicy stuff!”

Shiro chuckled in response, his tail undulating as they walked.  


* * *

Hunk walked back into the lounge sometime after Shiro had left. “Hey, Pidge. Everything good?” he asked. He had two rubber bottles in his hands, squatting down in front of the fort, squinting slightly as he peered inside; he was debating whether to put the bottles in so they were touching Keith or to have them on the ground to heat the air.

“All quiet on the western front,” she replied, eyeing the bottles. “Think he’s still cold?”

“I know pillow forts can get warm and stuffy, especially when they’re built like this. However, I don’t think it’s the right kind of heat that he needs.” Setting one bottle down, he reached over Platt and into the fort, and slowly, carefully laid his palm against Keith’s tail; it was to his disappointment, still too cold to surely be healthy for his friend. Withdrawing, he retrieved the bottle and placed one on one side of the naga, the other on the opposite side. Neither were touching him directly, but they were close enough that hopefully he could feel and absorb the heat; the naga was coiled up in such a way that there was no space to lay the bottles on him, and given their fluid nature, they wouldn’t be capable of holding their shape enough to lean up against his body either. “It’s not enough, but maybe it will help.”

“I wish I knew more about reptiles,” Pidge lamented. Hunk nodded in agreement. “Hopefully we’ll find a solution on Olkarion. They just might have a database with information about… what did Coran call him - Ibabi? - that will help Keith. Or at least some idea.”

“Reptiles like sunlight, right? There will be plenty of that,” Pidge commented.

Hunk sat down near the entrance of the fort. Chulatt scampered out of Pidge’s hands and onto Hunk’s knee, chittering for his attention. He offered his hand to the mouse who quickly climbed in and then up his arm to sit on his shoulder. “Yeah. But, there’s something more to sunlight, I’m sure than just the heat.”

Pidge shrugged. “Biology is not my thing.”

Hunk shook his head. “Neither mine. We’ll just have to do our best.” 

The troll pulled a sketch pad and pen from one of his belt pouches after a few minutes of amicable silence. Pidge leaned towards him, “What are you sketching?”

“I’m trying to come up with a chair design that Keith can sit in. The way he is built now, he has no knees or such joints at all. The only part of him that can bend ninety degrees is where his hips are at, “ he answered as he sketched. “The guy can’t even stand up like normal. He has to use his arms and do a push-up or two.”

“I didn’t know that. Wow. It really sucks to be a snake in space,” Pidge lamented, feeling sympathetic for her teammate.

“I got a look at his skeletal structure while Coran was examining him for internal bleeding. I think I remember just enough for some educated guesses as to what his range of motion and locomotor capabilities are.”

“I’ll leave you alone so you can think then.” Getting to her feet while being mindful of the passenger in her hands, she asked Plattchu, “You want to stay here or come with me?” The mouse squeaked and pointed to the pillow fort. “Alright then.” She moved her hands over the top of the fort where the mouse could jump off. “I’m going to work on deciphering those energy signatures.”

Hunk made a gesture with his hand, pen in his fingers, without looking up from his sketch, “Good luck. See you when we reach Olkarion.” With that, Pidge left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TL;DR
> 
> Lance asks why they're headed to Olkarion. Coran explains that they think the Olkari are the best possible solution for adjusting the Lions piloting chairs. Hunk questions whether the Olkari can make armor adjustments too.  
> Lance leaves the bridge in such a way that worries Hunk. Shiro offers to try and console Lance.  
> Shiro checks up on Keith while looking for Lance. He eventually finds him with Kalteneker.  
> Lance laments about the transformation and how everything in the castle suddenly feels small. Shiro agrees with him.  
> Shiro asks about Lance's family.  
> Lance asks some questions that throw Shiro off guard.  
> Shiro offers to spend time with Lance in the training room. Lance agrees and they leave Kalteneker to her own devices.  
> Hunk and Pidge talk about their worries about Keith and his health, wishing that either of them were more knowledgeable in biology.  
> Hunk starts sketching ideas for modifying Red's chair while Pidge leaves to work on the energy signatures the castle picked up.
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter totally shoehorned itself into my outline. And trying to write Lance and Shiro one-on-one when they very rarely interact just between themselves in canon (first two seasons anyhow), I hope I did them justice.
> 
> Thank you for reading and for the kudos and comments! 
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is appreciated.


	17. Adventures on Olkarion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussions and naps and play, oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is unbetaed.
> 
> Uncle Lance is a tag? Go figure.

“Paladins, we’re entering Olkarion’s atmosphere. Prepare to disembark,” Allura’s voice rang over the intercom.

Hunk heard a distinct high-pitched hiss come from inside the fort, one that startled Chulatt who had been watching the troll sketch. “Keith?” The next thing he heard was an attempt to muffle a groan. “Are you in pain?” Platt, still sitting in front of the entrance to the fort, started squeaking as if it were rambling off a series of questions.

“...ribs…” was the naga’s quiet reply.

“Did Allura startle you?”

“Yes.” The answer was heavy, followed by several deep breaths.

Chulatt held on to Hunk’s shoulder as he stowed his sketchbook and stood to lift the blanket and peek inside, seeing a tall stacked coil of snake tail with Keith in its center, hardly any space around himself. Chuchule wasn’t happy with the intrusion and chittered protests but, Hunk ignored them. Plattchu ran up Hunk’s arm so they could peek under the blanket too. “Do you want to stay here? We can explain to the Olkari that you’re not well.”

“I need some water. The anesthetic that Coran said was in that paste has either worn off or weakened.”

“I can get you a water pouch.”

Keith shook his head and started to move, letting his coils go slack. Hunk expected Keith to lift himself up and over the tall coil, raising the blanket so the naga could move unobstructed, Plattchu gripping his glove. Instead, Keith squeezed through the middle of it, using his arms to lift his tail and pull himself forward until he was far enough to get enough of said tail underneath him to stand. “Well, that’s a thing,” Hunk commented, dropping the blanket.

Chuchule, seeing their self-adopted charge leaving the fort, scampered down the pillows and ran up to Keith’s moving tail as he slithered out of the dark cave, jumping up on it and hitching a ride. Surprised by the touch, Keith turned from his torso to look behind him, wincing. “What?”

“They probably think you still need supervision,” offered Hunk who had bent over to pick Platt up. Chuchule nodded.

“I’m fine,” Keith protested. Chuchule gave him the stink eye and folded their arms. Turning forward, Keith mumbled as he headed out of the room. “Have it your way.” Before Hunk could follow him, the two mice on Hunk climbed down and joined up with Platt, all three running toward Keith and also hitching a ride on his tail. Chuckling, Hunk followed him out the door. “Are you going to meet with the Olkari?”

“Minus well.”

“Don’t strain yourself.”

“I can’t keep warm by staying still. Well, that is, I feel warmer when I’m moving. It’s not much, but it’s better than freezing.” He turned a corner.

“Uh, Keith, that’s the way to the elevator.”

“Allura wants us ready to disembark. I can handle a bit of pain until we’re finished meeting with the Olkari.”

Hunk shook his head in disbelief but, continued to follow. Even the mice were squeaking protests. Before they got to the elevator though, they jumped off the naga’s undulating tail and made their way towards one of the numerous vents; they weren’t ones to leave the ship.

Keith had thought that he and Hunk would be the last to arrive at the docking elevator. He was surprised to find that they weren’t Shiro’s brow did go up though at the naga’s attendance. “I figured you would still be sleeping.”

“It’s important we’re all present, isn’t it?”

“All things within reason, Keith. You should be resting,” Allura insisted. She was in her usual dress, not her battle uniform as the circumstances weren’t of the urgent type.

“I’m fine.”

Lance opened his mouth to further protest against Keith’s poor choices when Pidge’s voice echoed down the hallway. “I’m here! I’m here!” She skidded into the elevator, hand on knee, breathing hard. Tucked against her chest was her laptop.

“Touching ground in less than a dobosh,” Coran’s voice announced over the intercom. The group could hear the echo of the massive castle ship touching the surface of the Olkarion landing pad. Once settled, Allura initiated their decent.

Hunk watched the sunlight come through the windows with an uneasy expression. “Uh, I don’t think I should go outside. Not while the sky is clear and it’s sunny anyway,” Hunk said hesitantly.

“Is it an instinct?” Lance asked immediately.

“It’s got to be. My whole body is trembling just looking out the window.”

“I see. We’ve all learned not to ignore these powerful senses. Remain here, I’m sure the Olkari will understand when we explain what has happened,” Allura instructed.

Ryner and two other Olkari were waiting patiently, watching the structure slowly descend and touch ground on the copper-colored surface. Giving the group the chance to exit first, she welcomed them with an extended hand. “Princess Allura. Welcome back to Olkarion.”

“Thank you, Ryner,” Allura smiled, clasping her hand in return. 

Ryner looked over Allura’s shoulders at the others, her eyes going wide and her mouth agape just slightly. “Are they-”

“The Paladins, yes. We’ve experienced a strange encounter that has yet to be explained. Not only that, it was only they who were affected. Which brings me to the purpose of our visit; we would like to request your assistance once more.”

“Anything for Voltron and its Paladins. How can we help?”

Lance immediately took a few steps forward, shoving Keith in front of him, but not so far that either of them were in front of the princess. “First off, please find this guy someplace hot where he can take an uninterrupted nap for a few vargas.” Keith hissed loudly at him, both for being startled and Lance’s rough handling.

Ryner squinted at Keith, her expression one that said she didn’t recognize him immediately. As the gears in her head turned, she asked, “Are you, the Red Paladin?”

“Yes.” Keith didn’t think he was that unrecognizable. Ryner immediately recognized his voice though. “Oh! Forgive me.”

“It’s no problem,” he replied, squirming under Ryner’s studious eye. “But, Lance is right. If you’ve got a place that’s out of the way?”

“Of course, of course. We’ve got a few private rooms. You are more than welcome to make use of one.” Ryner turned to the Olkari on her right. “Hiidar, would you, please.” The Olkari nodded. Turning to Keith, they instructed, “Follow me.”

Keith slithered forward a bit before pausing and looking over his shoulder. “So, see you guys later?”

“Duh, Keith. Go take a nap already,” Lance answered, making shooing gestures with both his hands. The naga smiled softly and hurried his pace to catch up with his guide. The shining rays that cast themselves over the landing pad were already absorbing into his skin and though he wouldn’t outwardly show it, he was feeling giddy at the idea of finally being warm!

After watching Keith leave, Ryner looked perplexed upon returning her attention to Allura and company. “Where is the fifth Paladin?”

“That, will take a very lengthy conversation,” Shiro answered. “Do you have someplace where we can sit and talk?”

“Yes. The weather is very amicable today, so perhaps a place outdoors?” Ryner questioned with a hopeful tone in her voice. Allura smiled, “That sounds lovely.”

Pidge piped up. “Is Slav here?”

No one caught the twitch of Shiro’s eye.

“Pidge?” Ryner’s head tilted quizzically.

Pidge nodded, giving her signature grin. “The one and only.”

“The reason you cover your eyes will be included in the discussion I presume?”

“Yup.” Pidge started looking around, asking again, “Is Slav here? I’m hoping to go over some interesting readings with him.”

Ryner shook her head. “I’m afraid he’s not. He’s in the company of the Blade of Marmora.”

Pidge shrugged. “Can’t be helped then.” Looking back to where Hunk waited, she asked, “Could I borrow a couple of engineers?’

“Whatever for?”

“One of the reasons we’ve come is to request some assistance in adjusting the Lions. You see, due to the Paladin’s transformations, their capacity to pilot each of their Lions has been affected in varying degrees,” Allura explained.

“Modify… Voltron?” Ryner asked, her eyes wide and the tone of her voice mortified. It was as if she had been asked to deface something sacred.

“What she means is make minor adjustments to our cockpits. It occurred to us that your ability to work with both metal and nature would be the solution to our predicament. We also realize that it will take the cooperation and permission of each Lion, so this isn’t something we’re forcing anyone to take part in,” Shiro stepped in.

“Hunk has been working on designs to adjust each of the piloting chairs to better accommodate each of our unique changes,” Pidge began. “I figure that he would like to present and go over his ideas with other engineers and together come up with a couple possible solutions,” Pidge added.

“I understand. Is he waiting back in the castle ship?” Ryner questioned, looking up at the ship.

“Actually, he’s waiting in the docking elevator.” Pidge pointed.

“Then I shall send two of our best engineers. Thos, make haste to fetch them so as to not keep the Paladin waiting.”

“Of course,” the other Olkari smiled before turning on their foot and jogging off in the direction of the main city.

“Now, if you would follow me, I know the perfect place where we can sit and talk.” Turning around, Ryner twisted from the waist to look back at Allura and beckoned her forward with a single wave of her hand. Falling in step with Ryner, she and Shiro followed, who were then followed by Lance and Pidge. 

Ryner led them off of the landing pad to a hovercraft that looked like a convenience cart found in major Earth airports. Immediately seeing that he could not fit, Lance offered to just run alongside or behind the vehicle. She led them through many passways between tall and short buildings that were of the familiar Olkari architectural design, driving at a pace slow enough that Lance could follow at a canter. Further away from the landing pad though, the four noticed an increase in greenery, be it singular trees providing shade here, or a small raised flower garden there. The frequency of the greenery slowly increased as Ryner led them to what appeared to be a massive public garden with stone walkways lined with various flower species, hedge mazes that were designed like circuitry wires, and gazebos that were designed with an organic feel to them; some were domed while others were hexagonal, and each one was covered in greenery of sorts. Chairs that were made of stone with removable cushions or wood that looked like carved tree stumps sat under each gazebo. The trademark Olkari globe hung from the center of each structure, inactive given the time of day and the brilliance of the sun’s rays.

“Welcome to our garden. Since reclaiming the city, we felt the need to incorporate nature into our daily lives after becoming very acquainted with it,” she greeted, stopping the cart on the outskirts of the garden.

“This is all very stunning, Ryner,” Allura remarked as she exited the vehicle. The group was quiet for several minutes as they walked along the pathway, admiring the vegetation surrounding them.

Lance was about to comment when something caught his eye from one of the hedge mazes. Whipping his head around to focus on it, he was quick enough to catch a small body duck behind the bush. “Kids?”

“Yes. Now that the Galra are gone, we no longer shelter our children as greatly as before. Most have never met the Paladins of Voltron. It appears that those five over there have taken quite an interest in you,” Ryner laughed. Turning to the maze she called out, “Don’t be shy. Come greet Princess Allura and the Paladins of Voltron.”

One by one, each child first peeking around one of the bushes, five small Olkari came trotting over. Three were a little over three feet tall, one was probably three foot eight and the last was either four feet or just barely over it. They all gathered behind Ryner.

Allura leaned over, her hands on her knees. “Hello.” Putting a hand on her chest, she introduced herself. “I am Princess Allura of Altea.”

One of the three smallest spoke up. “What’s a Princess?”

“A princess is the daughter of a leader,” she began. “A leader who is either a king or a queen, who guides and protects those who choose to follow him or her.”

“Oh.” they replied, suddenly disinterested. “Do you pilot Voltron?” they asked next.

“No, I’m not a Paladin of Voltron. But the three behind me are.” Standing, she indicated each with an open palm as she identified them. “Shiro is the Black Paladin and pilots the Black Lion. Lance is the Blue Paladin and pilots the Blue Lion. Pidge-”

The tallest one was squinting at Pidge and interrupted Allura. “She’s short! How can she be a Paladin of Voltron?”

At first Pidge was offended. But then looking at her companions, at how much taller they were, she figured she understood where the kid was coming from. “I’m tall enough.These two are just giants.”

“Pidge here pilots the Green Lion,” Lance interceded in an exaggerated tone meant to make something sound amazing. It worked as all five kids had their mouths open and were staring at the gorgon with a new reverence. “Really!?”

Ryner laughed lightly. “All Olkari children have their favorite Lions. A good majority of them, that I know of, favor the Green Lion the most.”

“Is that so.” Pidge didn’t know what to do with all the attention she was getting from the kids who had gathered around her and were leaning towards her, wide-eyed with great expectations. “Uh, I’ll show you the Green Lion later, okay. Right now we have to talk with Ryner about important stuff.”

Lance got an idea then. “All of us don’t have to be present, yes?” he inquired of Allura.

She shook her head. “I suppose not.”

“Perfect.” He walked over to the kids crowding his teammate and leaned over, putting his hands on his knobby horse knees. “Do you all want to play with me?”

That garnered their attention. “The Paladins of Voltron play games?!” the second tallest asked in shock.

Righting himself, Lance folded his arms with a wide grin and a raised eyebrow. “Of course! All work and no play makes for a very bored Paladin.”

This excited them. They were jumping up and down, reaching out and touching him, begging for his attention. “Play with us! Play with us!”

He ushered them away from the others. “Let’s go over here so there’s more space.” Looking over his shoulder for a second, he gave his teammates a thumbs up. Shiro and Pidge waved slightly, giving their thanks.

“Come, sit.” Ryner beckoned, stepping underneath one of the domed gazebos with carved wooden chairs; the designs on the chairs were of vines and flowers, some buds, most as fully bloomed. Shiro thought they looked like cherry blossoms while Pidge could only compare them to a fruit tree in the spring. While Allura could sit fully in the chai, Pidge found that the most comfortable for her was to sit half-way in the chair so her small wings wouldn’t feel crushed. Poor Shiro, after apologizing, straddled the chair backward so his tail and wings could relax freely. Ryner, her hands in her lap, opened the conversation. “So, at your own pace, please tell me all that has happened.”

Allura was the first to speak. “We were responding to a distress signal…”  


* * *

Keith took in the changes within the Olkari city as his guide led him to what appeared to be a parking lot where convenience vehicles were stationed, noting how the gentle greenery and vegetation of nature was slowly intermingling with the sharp geometric architecture of the metal buildings. Following his guide’s instructions to board the vehicle, with some awkwardness in that he took up most of the vehicle with his large tail, he quietly observed how the metal structures varied slightly as they drove down pathways, silently guessing what the significance was. Did one design indicate a flight control tower? Was that one a business complex? That smaller, long one had to be a spaceport, or maybe it was a trader’s outpost?

His thoughts were interrupted by his guide. “Forgive my boldness but,  
you seem to be a taciturn one.”

“I’m sorry. I- I enjoy the quiet. I like to observe the environment around me, see if I can tell what kind of story it has to tell.”

“Ah. So you share an appreciation for nature.”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Then I will take you to a place where you can rest in her comforts.”

“Uh, thanks?” Keith was not sure of what to think about that. Fortunately, his guide didn’t pry further. 

The Olkari turned down a pathway that led to what Keith surmised was a tourist residential zone. Various hotels, motels and other such lodgings either reached the sky or stretched down the streets. What immediately caught Keith’s eye was a structure that spoke high class. It was a length away from the other buildings, having a planted courtyard with massive shade trees on three sides that reached over the building and small potted plants at the main entrance which was lavish in comparison to its neighbors. Even for the basic architecture the Olkari favored with their metal city, they outdid themselves with this one; it was a merger of the organic and the inorganic. While the base structure was metal, trees and vines were growing up the sides. There were balconies on the east and west of the building three storeys up that could easily hold a private venue. The balconies on the fourth and fifth storeys were more modest in size and design. Each balcony railing was wrapped with flowering vines originating from planter boxes up against either side while the trees reached up past the roof to provide shade to the whole structure.

Keith could not stop his jaw from falling open when Hiida pulled up to the entrance. “Uh… when Ryner spoke of private rooms… did she mean this?!”

Hiida looked over their shoulder with a modest smile. “Only the best for a Paladin of Voltron.”

He had never felt so awkward and in the wrong place in his life. Sure, being a Paladin of Voltron and piloting a giant Lion came with certain expectations and grandeur, but lavish lodgings? This was too much. He was perfectly fine with a bunk.

Although, one of those smaller south-facing balconies was looking very appealing to him, the way the sun was casting its rays on it in the most perfect way. 

Okay, so a bunk with a large window would suit him just fine.

He must have been lost in his bewilderment because Hiida cleared their throat. “Paladin, please follow me.”

‘Uh… right.”

In the reception area, he felt even more uncomfortable; he felt his long body was taking up too much space even though the room was very large, painted with light pinks and oranges, and scarcely furnished. Hiida took care of business at the brown check-in desk while he once again got lost in his thoughts, though he did snap back upon seeing the Olkari approaching him. “I’ve reserved a room for you. Please follow me.” Keith could only manage to nod his head before following the Olkari to what must have been an elevator.

A small elevator with copper-colored doors.

He hoped he could cram all of himself into it. It looked even smaller than the ones on the castle ship. He had yet to even try climbing stairs with nothing but a tail.

The appearance of the lift was deceptive from the outside; what looked like small doors were actually three large doors, the two that slide to the sides and one that slid up, that were designed to appear smaller, probably for aesthetic. Once the doors opened, he quickly estimated that the room was maybe a couple square meters bigger than the Altean elevators. Still, he doubted he and Lance could comfortably fit in it. Hiida patiently waited for him to enter. Keith made quick work of the task. As the doors closed, he couldn’t help but ask, “Are the others going to be brought here too?”

“I can’t imagine otherwise. All of Olkarion’s important guests are invited to stay here for the duration of their visit.”

Keith immediately figured that Lance would be eating this up.

To Keith’s great silent gratitude, the Olkari picked a more reserved room on the fourth floor for him that had a modest balcony. It was lightly furnished with a bed, armoire, writing desk, couch, foot table and two chairs along with two patio chairs on the balcony. The color scheme was a mix of browns and yellows with a hint of green provided by some indoor plants. There was a private bathroom with a large tub - still much too small for his comfortable use - vanity, mirror, and separate shower. In another room attached to it was what he surmised was the toilet. Lighting in all rooms was to be provided by the orbs in the ceiling and accenting inset orbs along the walls. “Please make yourself comfortable, Paladin of Voltron. If there is anything you should need, use the intercom here.” Hiida pointed to the device next to the door.

“Thank you. And it’s Keith.”

“Pardon?”

“Call me Keith.”

“Then, Keith, please rest well.” With that, the Olkari made their exit.

Having kept his tongue in check so as to not scare or weird out the Olkari, he let it flick out to investigate the rest of the room, picking up an alien floral scent. When it settled, the first thing he did was examine the balcony; it was approximately eight feet long by five feet wide. If he brought one of the chairs inside, he could comfortably stretch out in a lazy oblong coil and bask for a while. He went to lift one when his sore ribs reminded him that they had been abused earlier. Sighing as the pain started registering again, he looked for a cup or something to put water in; the painkillers Coran had given him were still in his belt pouch.

On a small side table next to the couch, which he hadn’t noticed when entering the room, was a covered metal water pitcher and two metal mugs. He was surprised to find water in the pitcher. Quickly downing a pill, he made quick work of moving the chair, grimacing as his muscles protested; what was it Coran had said about physical activity? But it was just a chair! Sighing, he removed his jacket and laid it on the bed. Just before settling down, he decided to take in the view, his tongue exploring the atmosphere. Resting his hands on the bronze-colored railing, he looked to the horizon. In the foreground, he could see the metal structures mesh with what he figured to be massive public garden parks that were interspersed throughout the city. In the far distance was the forest that he and Voltron had first encountered the Olkari in. It was a great view. Mind at ease, he got himself situated, rested his arms on his tail, his head on his arms, and let his mind drift.

So this was what it felt like to be a warm reptile. Everything just felt right for once. Right and functioning and he was sure that after his nap, he would feel more energetic and back to himself too. Well, as much of himself he could feel like, being a naga and all.  


* * *

Hunk wasn’t sure what was going on. It’s not like he had a speaker on his end and a microphone on their end. Seeing Lance shove Keith, he guessed that the former was asking about getting the later some help which lightened the guilt that Hunk was feeling about not knowing how to care for his friend’s health. That guilt dissipated, even more, seeing Keith follow one of the Olkari. He could barely make out Pidge pointing in his direction; so were they explaining why he wasn’t with the group? Then the another of the three Olkari ran off. For what reason? Watching the group leave, he wondered if he should go back inside the castle. His intuition told him to sit tight for a bit, that there was a specific reason why that second Olkari left.

Eight or nine minutes later he caught sight of three Olkari riding in some small space golf cart and they were headed in his direction. The driver pulled up to the docking elevator, leaving the other two to quickly climb out. “Paladin? Are you present?” One asked.

“Yeah, I’m in the elevator. Come on in.”

The two entered after a moment’s hesitation, one slightly shorter than the other and with darker pigmented skin. They were both wearing a light orange sash, probably indicative of their status as engineers. The tall one was first to speak, “Thos sent for us. She explained that the small Paladin made a request for two engineers to assist you?”

“Yeah. What else did she explain?”

“Your objective is to modify Voltron,” the two were openly horrified. Hunk gestured for them to calm down. “We’re not going to do any changes without the Lions’ permission first. But, it is urgent that we find some way to adjust their cockpits because currently two out of five of us can’t fly safely as they are now.”

The Olkari looked at each other for a few seconds of confusion and then back at him. “But, you have been piloting Voltron unobstructed in the past? What has transpired that suddenly requires these modifications?”

“Ah, so that wasn’t explained. Okay, cliff notes version of the story is that all of the Paladins were exposed to some sort of weird energy that changed our physical bodies. Keith, the Red Paladin, doesn’t have legs anymore and Lance, the Blue Paladin, is now a quadruped. Neither of them can use the chairs as they were originally designed. During a training exercise, one of them got hurt. Not seriously, thank goodness, but it stressed the point that Voltron is presently incapacitated.”

Both Olkari nodded. The shorter one spoke, “We understand your dilemma. Let us get to work quickly. What details do you have that can be worked with?”

“I only have some rudimentary sketches. A lot of stuff happened between the accident and getting here so there wasn’t really any time to get detailed scans.” Hunk pulled out his sketchbook and began flipping through pages.

“We’ll start with what you’ve gathered,” the taller one said.

Pausing his search, Hunk extended his hand, “I’m Hunk by the way.”

The short one shook his hand first. “I am Fima.”

“And I am Namh,” the taller one said.

Finding the sketch he was looking for, he flipped his book around to show them. “This is a basic skeletal structure of Keith and some hypothetical sketches of his range of movement with his tail.” On that page and several subsequent ones were sketches of Keith standing, sitting on the ground, a step-by-step of how he moves in order to stand up, twisting, bending over, and a step-by-step of how Hunk figured Keith’s locomotion worked as well as how far he believed Keith could bend his tail in all directions. “And this,” he flipped to another page, “Is a block sketch the chairs in each of the cockpits.” Across two pages were rough lines of the chair constructions viewed from the back, front, both sides, and top.

“Might I borrow that,” Namh asked, pointing to the book.

“Sure.”

Namh held the book low so that Fima could see, the two studying the sketches of Keith intently. Hunk waited patiently. They flipped the pages back and forth, mostly between the sketches of Keith’s tail and the chair. “Your teammate is highly limited,” Namh commented.

Hunk shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that. Inconvenienced by some things, yes. But he is still able to move freely and quickly, given the chance to familiarize himself with the notion first.”

“Ah, the transformation you spoke of. He had legs prior to, yes?”

Hunk nodded. Namh gently closed the book. “We will need our lab to work. Will you come with us?”

Hunk tapped his fingers together, eyes downcast. “Yeah, about that. One thing about the transformation is that each of us has new physiology, and with that physiology comes instinctual behaviors that we have come to understand as being very important to pay attention to. I don’t know why but, I can’t be in the sunlight.”

Fima and Namh nodded their understanding. “Can you travel after sundown?” Namh asked.

Straightening, the troll nodded. “I’m pretty positive about that.”

“Then, with your permission, we will take your observations and begin constructing experimental models with which to work with.”

“Yeah, you can borrow my sketchbook. The faster we can get on this and find a solution, the faster we can get Voltron back in action.”

The Olkari nodded and turned to leave when Hunk abruptly stopped them with a raised hand, “Oh, we also need adjustments to our armor. Unfortunately, I don’t have sketches of the other guys for you to work with.”

“Understood. I will send Thos to collect you at dusk.” The two left, boarding the vehicle once more, the driver having stayed while they spoke. Hunk watched them leave and then looked around the space he was in. “What am I going to do now?”  


* * *

“Okay, so what kind of games do you kids play?” Lance asked once he had gotten everyone far enough away for some actual play space. They had taken him to a part of the garden with a wide-open zone, big enough for a few kids to run laps around and exhaust themselves, but not big enough for him to do the same thing, he felt. Regardless, he was there to entertain the kids.

The kids murmured amongst themselves, having squatted down into a low huddle. There were a few ‘nah’s and ‘maybe’s before he heard a distinct, “Yeah! That one!” Like a trained unit, they stood up in unison, the tallest one saying, “We want to play tyaga!”

“Okay, what’s tyaga?”

“It’s easy,” the middle one said. They suddenly ran up to him, slapped his leg while shouting, “Eta!” before they all ran off. It took Lance several seconds to process what had just happened before he understood the simplicity of it. “Ah! Tag!” Knowing he had an advantage of speed over them, he went easy on them as any good uncle would do.

For several minutes he playfully chased each of the kids before picking one of the smallest and tapping them on the head, “Eta!” They squealed and whirled around, trying to do a tag-back which he deftly dodged and pranced off in another direction. As they continued to play, he noticed that he was always the target for ‘eta’ whenever one of the other children had been tagged. He didn’t mind. Instead, he made an effort to get every child at least once so they could all have a chance to chase him around before he conceded to let them slap him, making him ‘eta’ again.

Eventually, someone got bored of the game. “Let’s play gorria berdea!”

“I want to play zaldi,” countered one of the smallest ones. “You never play fair with gorria berdea.”

“But there’s too many of us to play zaldi,” complained the middle one.

“You only want to play zaldi because a Paladin is here,” pouted the tallest one. That had Lance’s attention. “What’s zaldi?”

The three smallest ones looked at him like he was the dumbest person in the group at that moment. “This,” two of them said at the same as one squatted down, hands behind their back. The other one wrapped their arms around the neck of the first one and carefully, the first one stood up, the second one jumping into the first one’s arms; essentially, a piggy-back. However, the first one was not strong enough to hold the second one up for long so the second one slid back down.

He nodded. “Okay, I understand now.” The kids wanted him to give them rides. Understandable, really. He studied them, the looked back at himself. “If you all take turns, we can play zaldi. And, if I’ve got this right, I’ll be the zaldi for all of you.”

The three smallest ones stared at him for several seconds before jumping up and down, clapping. The middle one was bouncing on the balls of their feet while the tallest one was literally jumping. “Me first, me first!”

“No! I want to go first!” cried the middle one. “Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you always get to go first!”

“We want to go first!” the smallest ones echoed at the same time. Lance had a suspicion but, now he figured that they were triplets.

Unfortunately, the disagreement led to a shoving match. “Bip bip! None of that,” he commanded, putting his hands between them and guiding them apart. “How about we play a game of chance, and the ultimate winner goes first. But, you all have to be nice and accept who the winner is, okay. Or else I won’t be the zaldi for anyone.”

They all put their arms behind their backs, shamefaced. “Okay.”

“Okay, first, we need a cube. Anyone have a cube?”

The tallest one reached into their pocket - a hidden pocket because Lance would never have guessed that the typical fashion of the Olkari had pockets - and produced a small metal marble on the flat of their palm. Poking it with their other finger, they all watched as the marble was shaped into a cube. The tallest one then offered it to Lance. He took it and pulled a marker from his own pocket, quickly drawing lines on all but one side, each side having one more than the previous until the cube was covered in lines numbering zero to five. Putting the marker back in his pocket, he leaned over to show the cube to the kids.

“So this is how it works. One at a time, everyone rolls the cube. The one with the highest number goes first. If two or more people roll the same number, then those that do roll again and whoever amongst them with the highest number gets to go first. Okay.”

They all nodded their understanding.

Lance gave the cube to one of the triplets. After they all squatted down, the child rolled, getting a three. Picking it up, they handed it to one of their siblings who rolled a five. That sibling handed it to the third sibling who rolled a zero. The cube was then passed to the middle one who also rolled a five. The tallest one rolled a four.

“Okay, you two who rolled a five, roll again,” Lance instructed.

The middle one rolled first, getting a two. The smallest one rolled a four. Fist pumping, they cheered, “Yay! I’m first!” The other four groaned. “Bip bip, what did I say earlier?” Lance asked in a low tone.

“That we have to be nice,” the middle one answered.

“That’s right. Now, each of you will get ten doboshes, no more.” He pulled out his phone and set up the timer. Giving it to the first child, he said. “You get to hold this. When it beeps, that means your turn is over and we roll the cube again to see who is next.” Once they accepted the phone, Lance got down on his belly. “Hop on when you’re ready.” Careful not to drop the phone, the child clambered up. Reaching back, Lance instructed, “Hold my hand so you don’t fall off, okay.”

“Okay,” they readily obeyed.

“See that button on the bottom, push it to start the timer and we’ll go.” The child used their thumb and once Lance heard the beep of the timer starting, he walked away from the other kids at first, then slipped into a prance. The Olkari on his back giggled and cheered. When their turn ended and Lance returned to the other kids, they were eager to roll the cube again.

And so it went until all the kids had had a turn.

The kids were talking amongst themselves afterward, trying to agree on a new game to play, when Lance heard Shiro call his name. “Lance! You’re needed back here.”

Turning to face the kids, he leaned over and put his hands on his knobby horse knees. “Looks like I’ve got to go back to doing Paladin stuff. It was fun playing with you though.”

“Awww,” they all whined. 

“Bip bip, none of that,” he smiled, straightening. Turning around and twisting from the waist, he waved to them as he walked back to the others. The kids, laughing, waved back.

After all, how many kids get to say that they played games with an actual Paladin of Voltron?  


* * *

Ryner nodded her comprehension after Allura and Shiro had finished explaining what had happened. “That’s quite a conundrum. Of course, the Olkari will do everything we can to assist you in finding answers.”

“Thank you, Ryner. I also wanted to discuss the possibility of opening Olkarion up for the refugees of the war,” Allura suggested.

“Of course. A topic for tomorrow though, if you don’t mind. What we’ve discussed is heavy on the mind and you all should be given a chance to relax for a time.”

“That does sound inviting,” Shiro commented.

“I also would like to invite you all to a special dinner in celebration of your victory against Zarkon. The battle is won, but we all understand that the war is far from over.”

“We accept your invitation,” Allura answered for the group. “I’ll make sure that Hunk, Keith, and Lance are informed as well.”

“Then I’ll see you later tonight. Feel free to roam our gardens. Will you be staying in your castle ship or may we Olkari have the privilege of providing each of you private lodgings?”

“We’ll take you up on your offer, Ryner,” Pidge spoke up immediately. “It’ll give us more time to work with the engineers and scientists.” Allura and Shiro nodded their agreement. “I also have a personal request.”

“Of course, Pidge. What can we help you with?”

“I’d like to work with some of your scientists to possibly come up with a visor that I can use that will also prevent me from accidentally transforming anyone I’m looking at into stone. It’s rather dull seeing everything in black and white and with research and experimenting, being able to see color can make or break whatever you’re working on.”

“I’ll get you set up as quickly as I can.”

“Thanks, Ryner.”

The Olkari stood. “I’ll have lodgings prepared for you at The Retreat. It’s an easily identifiable lodging and I’m sure that Keith has been taken there already. Dinner will be served in the open in one of our gardens. I’ll have guides collect you prior to the varga.”

“Your graciousness is most appreciated,” Allura replied. “We’ll see you again at dinner.”  


* * *

“Hey, Keith!” Lance called from behind the door to Keith’s room, startling the naga for the second time that day. When he didn’t answer immediately, the centaur rapped his knuckles on the door. “Keith! Wake up!”

“What is it, Lance?” the naga grumbled as he left the balcony to answer the door, noticing how dusk was approaching; he slept longer than he thought he would.

“The Olkari are having a feast! Come join!”

“No thanks, I’m not hungry,” Keith answered as he opened the door in time to see Lance fold his arms, frowning. “You haven’t eaten anything all day,” he stated. Raising an eyebrow, he then asked, “Are you backed up or something?”

Keith blushed lightly, taken aback by the centaurs bluntness. “What? No!”

“Well then, what is it?” Lance swished his tail, impatient.

“What I’ve already eaten hasn’t worked its way through yet. Cold blooded means slow metabolism, you walking furnace.” Keith glared at him, arms folded.

“Well, sounds like you’re backed up to me,” the centaur mumbled under his breath.

Keith sighed, losing his patience. “Lance, all the food I’ve eaten has literally been sitting in my stomach for the past three days. It wasn’t until I was finally warm, wasn’t until maybe two vargas ago, that everything started moving along. I am seriously not hungry.”

Relaxing his arms so he could wave the topic away, Lance replied, “Fine, fine, you don’t have to eat, but come be social at least! It’s good for morale!”

“I’m no good a public events,” Keith muttered, looking away.

“Well, tough noogies. Allura said that unless you were still sick, which obviously you are not, you’re required to attend.”

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?!” Keith whipped his head back, leaning into Lance’s personal space as he clenched his jaw and balled his fists at his sides. A low hiss was rumbling in his chest.

“I wanted to give you the chance to come of your own volition, not make you. So there.” Lance shoved Keith away. “Get yourself presentable. Ryner’s sending a change of clothes for you that Allura expects you to wear. All of us, in fact, are being given a change of clothes. Dinner is in two vargas.” Backing up slightly so he could turn, he left Keith to his own devices. The naga wanted to slam the door but it was automated, like all the rooms in the castle. So instead he slammed the button that operated it, letting out a breath that he wasn’t aware he had been holding as the door slid shut.

 _Lance is such a jerk_ , he thought.

 _I’m a jerk_ , he thought seconds later, letting the tension in his body dissipate. 

Dinner was going to be even more awkward he figured as he slithered over to the couch and sat in front of it, leaning his back against it. Unsheathing his knife, he played with his reflection on it, studying the Blade’s insignia, thinking about his Galra heritage.

What would the Blade think of him now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry Pidge! I will give you the limelight eventually!
> 
> I can't decide if I like the way I wrote Allura or if I wrote her totally out of character.
> 
> So, this chapter just kept going and going and going. So much I wanted to put in it and I really didn't want to split it but after nearly 19 - 20 pages, yeah, it needs a split.
> 
> Fluff! Lance playing with kids is so much fluff!
> 
> I also need to thank @Reader115 for their little Lance quirk of 'bip bip'. It's just so damned cute I had to include it somewhere in my fic.
> 
> I thought about putting translations to the names of the games the Olkari kids wanted to play but, I think the important ones explained themselves.  
> Tell me what you liked in the comments!  
> And always, constructive criticism is appreciated. Point things out to me that need fixing because I don't have a beta.


	18. Adventures of Formal Dinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a feast!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is not betaed.
> 
>  
> 
> I have not seen season 5 yet. I wanted to finish this chapter first.  
> Even so.  
> MAJOR emphasis on canon divergence

A light knock on the door pulled Keith from his musings. Rising and sheathing his knife, he opened the door to an Olkari holding a flat green box; definitely the clothes that Lance said were being sent. Wordlessly, Keith accepted the box. “I will come back to collect you for the dinner feast,” the Olkari said.

“Uh, okay.”

Smiling, the Olkari departed. Moving back into the room, Keith set the box on the bed and lifted the lid. Inside was a long white tunic that had three buttons leading up to a standing collar on the front and splits going up a quarter of the total length on the sides. The sleeves were fitted and reached the wrist. Setting the top down, he pulled the next piece out of the box; it appeared to be a wide sash that was to be worn over the left shoulder, typical Olkari style, and it was a vibrant red. There was also the Voltron insignia embroidered in a darker red on the front. Setting that down he looked into the box to find, to his amusement, pants that were a dark brown. “I suppose not all the Olkari got the news.” Looking at the private bathroom, he spoke to himself. “I guess I’ll shower and at least wash my hair. That’s presentable enough, right?”

Of course no one was around to answer.

He started to peel his shirt off when his claws brushed against the bandages; he had forgotten about those. Should he leave them on and forego the shower or remove them and take the shower? Taking his shirt completely off and throwing it on the bed, he entered the bathroom just enough so he could look at his chest in the mirror. Raising his arms, elbows out, he studied how the bandages were wrapped. “Can I even get these off myself?” he asked out loud, twisting from side to side; there was some pain that resulted, pain that he could deal with.

Coran never did say how long he needed to keep the bandages on.

So he decided they were coming off.

Twisting from side to side a few more times, he scrupulously looked for the leading edge that would allow him to unwrap himself. Still not seeing it, he moved into the bathroom just a bit further so he could turn around and see his back in the mirror. There, next to his right shoulder blade, was the leading edge. Now, he was flexible, but that leading edge was in a troublesome spot. “I should just cut these off,” he muttered to himself. Instantly, he remembered his knife. Turning back around so his chest was facing the mirror, he unsheathed his knife and carefully slid it between the layers of bandages, not dumb enough to try and go between them and his skin.

At first, the bandages frayed. With a little more coaxing, he succeeded in getting a section of them to split apart. Sheathing his knife, he grabbed at the new leads and began to unwrap himself, wrinkling his nose and curling his lip at how the bandages stuck to the dried paste that in turn stuck to his side. His tongue flicked out several times as he worked; what he smell tasted was nasty, like sulfur and old fish, and he mentally told his tongue to stay in his mouth, figuring that if he could smell through his nose, he would definitely be covering it.

Most of the dried paste stayed on him, much to his disgust. Seeing no waste basket, he left the bandages on the floor, unbuckled his belt and laid it on top of the vanity, and looked in the vanity cabinets for bathing materials. Finding washcloths and what looked like a natural sponge -or maybe it was some type of alien moss- he slithered into the shower stall, not caring that the major length of his tail wouldn’t fit in it; he just needed to wash the paste off, the rest of him would be fine.

Turning the water on, he was pleased that it didn’t start off cold. Twisting and lifting his arm straight above him, he gave the flow of the water as much access to the paste as it could reach. Feeling the water on his skin, his curious tongue flicked out again; the dried paste smell tasted bad, but reconstituted paste smell tasted even worse! He found himself clamping a hand over both his nose and mouth out of reflex; just what was this paste stuff made of?

When he recovered, he used his right hand to scrape as much of the paste off as he could, frowning as it caked under his claws. The stuff collected on the shower floor like lumps of clay, refusing to soften and break apart enough to disappear down the drain; he would dispose of it later. Once the majority of it was off, he used the sponge thing and going with the grain of his scales, cleaned the residue off. From what he could see, his bruises were still variegated purples and reds and had spread to cover not just the left side of his ribcage, but the left side of his chest too. Just how far did it reach around his back? And they were tender to the touch.

“Better not let Shiro see this,” he muttered to himself.

Dropping the sponge away from the goop, he cleaned the gunk out from beneath his claws as best he could before grabbing the small jar of what he assumed was shampoo from the shelf in the stall. Uncapping it, he scooped a bit onto his fingers and rubbed the substance between them; it didn’t foam up like the shampoo he was accustomed to. It was more cream-like than a runny liquid. Shrugging, he scooped up a bit more, returned the jar to the shelf, and combed the cream through his hair.

Once he rinsed himself and shut off the water, he found the towels hanging on the back of the door along with a robe. Donning the robe, he rubbed at his hair with the towel. It felt liberating to have that paste off of his scales!

Slithering back into the main room, he saw the part of his tail that had also been bandaged, frowning, both at the fact that he had forgotten about that and also confused as to how the bandage hadn’t fallen off from of his movement. Draping the towel around his neck, it took a moment for him to get that part of his tail in the bathroom as well as wrap around to go back in and clean it. After cutting the bandages off, he stuck that section in the stall and let the water loosen the paste, utilizing a washcloth to scrape the paste off so it wouldn’t get stuck under his claws again. He followed up with the sponge to get the residue off. Drying off with the towel that was around his neck, he sighed. Finally clean. 

Slithering back into the room once more, he tossed his belt onto the bed and moved up to the window, folded his arms, and enjoyed the falling dusk. “I wonder how much time is left before dinner,” he asked himself. There was a clock on the intercom but, he had no idea what it said.  


* * *

Lance’s jaw hit the floor when he saw his room. It was on the fourth floor, like Keith’s, but it was definitely bigger. Bigger bed, bigger squarespace, bigger furniture. There was even a small table that could sit four; Keith’s room didn’t have that! The centaur spent several minutes wandering around the room, awed by everything. His niece and nephew would be having a field day jumping on the bed and he wouldn’t have the heart to tell them to stop. Speaking of bed, he walked up to the side of it and pushed down on it with his arms a few times. Confident, he bent his knees and using his back legs, slid himself onto it. 

It was totally, incomparably awesome!

He had a bed!

Flopping onto his side, he chuckled. Pulling out his phone, he surmised he could lounge for a bit before showering. Besides, Ryner’s change of clothes still needed to show up. Setting the phone on the bed, he pulled himself all the way on it. Twisting from the waist so he could rest his hands behind his head, he felt his human back pop a few times. Grinning like a fool, he sighed heavily and allowed himself to relax.

He lost track of time because a light knock on his door snapped him out of his thoughts. “Just a tic!” It took a bit for him to get off the bed to answer the door. When he did, he found an Olkari offering a flat green box to him. He quickly accepted it. “Thanks.”

“I will come back to collect you for the dinner feast.”

“Okay. See you later,” he smiled, stepping back into his room as the Olkari left.

Setting the box on the bed, he opened it to find a white tunic, something blue that he was unfamiliar with that had the Voltron insignia embroidered on it and after picking up what was left in the box, had a laughing fit. Pants! Trousers! Did Ryner seriously expect him to fit into something meant for two legs? He laughed so hard he held his stomach.

It took three minutes for him to calm down. He decided to give Ryner the benefit of the doubt and pin the mistake on another Olkari down the grapevine. Now, now was the time to figure out the shower.

Taking in the bathroom, he whistled. The bathtub was huge by human standards, but a horse still wouldn’t be able to fit in it. The separate shower though, he could fit his front half in. Better than having to use the sink. Kneeling down to look in the cabinets beneath the vanity, he was pleased to find bathing paraphernalia. Grabbing some and setting them on the vanity, he looked around for the towels, smiling when he found a robe with them as well. Soap was in the shower stall already, though he found it peculiar that it was just a single jar. Was that body wash or shampoo? He looked in the cabinets again but didn’t find anything else that looked like either. Then a thought occurred to him; Olkari don’t have hair, of course they wouldn’t have shampoo! “Well, I hope it doesn’t wreck my hair,” he said to himself, disrobing.

As the water ran down the length of him, he was reminded about the extra hair running down his back. “Oh yeah, can’t believe I forgot about that.” Sighing, he stuck with just the hair on his head. His mane would be covered anyway so, it’s fine? Maybe he should bug Hunk for some help combing it out. Were there even brushes in the rooms? He should have checked before getting into the shower.

At least there were enough towels to dry off with.

He figured he would put off getting dressed so he could air dry. The clothes looked pretty simple to put on, except for that blue thing. Holding it up, he held it in different ways trying to figure out how it was supposed to be worn. The embroidered insignia went on the front, he was sure of it. Taking it to the bathroom so he could use the mirror, he laid the garment across his chest, making sure the insignia was on the front. That helped him figure it out. “Ah! So this thing goes over the shoulder. Should have seen that one coming, given the Olkari everyday wear is designed like that.”

Setting the garment on the bed, he finger-combed his hair. Tomorrow he would have to get some brushes from his room in the castle ship.  


* * *

Shiro instantly felt claustrophobic in his room. He didn’t know it, but it was as big as Lance’s and still, it felt too small.

Like the rest of the guest rooms in the hotel complex, his room was painted in browns and yellows, accented with greens by potted plants in corners and on furniture.

Minutes after he had been brought to the room, another Olkari attendant brought him a flat green box with what he figured was the clothes that Ryner had requested the Paladins wear to the dinner. Opening the box after setting it on the couch, his hopes for having something that would fit were dashed as soon as he held up the white tunic. “I guess I was expecting a bit much,” he said to himself. The second garment he recognized as an over-the-shoulder sash, a deep grey in color, almost black, with the Voltron insignia embroidered in black on the front. This, he thought, he might be able to wear. Setting that down, he shook his head at the pants remaining in the box; no way, no when, no how.

Shaking his head at yet another troublesome issue brought about by the strange transformation, he entered the bathroom, startled by his reflection in the mirror. It occurred to him then that he had not really taken the time to look at himself in either form. Leaning forward on the vanity, he studied his face, noting first the black horns, - a series of five incremental pieces with the first starting at his temple just past his hairline and the last at the apex of the back his skull, its length approximately three-quarters the length of his hand and aimed backward with a slight wave at the end. There were small scales around the base of the horns on his temple and that were just barely along his cheeks, just under his eyes. Along his neck, under his ears and behind the square of his jaw, more of the small scales appeared. Twisting so he could see more of his neck, he saw that the scales wrapped around and completely covered the back of it.

Pulling back, he attempted to take his vest off only to have it fade away in a swirl of fog. His undershirt followed suit. For the most part, his top half looked as he remembered it, complete with the discolored scars and his small, but still nonetheless embarrassing, outie. Turning around so his back was to the mirror and lowering his right wing so he could see over it, he saw for the first time the dorsal stripe that Lance had mentioned the day before. Centered along his spine, it traveled from under his waistband to under his hairline and covered a quarter of his back, spreading from the center like paint; a heavy amount of scales on the spine itself that thinned out in density at the outer edge. He did note that the line spread further where his dragon wings were attached. The joints originated from somewhere close to his shoulder blades and the scales spread from his spine to circle around the tops of them to the base of the thick membranes that made up the wing; the membranes reached down to the middle of his back.

Pulling at the waistband of his pants, he noted how the dragon aspects of himself blended with the human aspects. Unlike what he was expecting -a distinct line separating the two- the black scales of his dragon half gradually manifested, starting just below his iliac crest, becoming denser the further down they went. Unlike Keith’s scales, they were round and smooth, creating very little friction when his clothes rubbed against them.

Everything below his waistband was as reptile-like as a dragon could get. His thighs were thicker, his calves were bigger, the balls of his feet wider and the claws were like those of a bird of prey. He supposed that the reason his feet were wide was to help him keep his balance as he walked, his tail, of course, being the counterweight. The bottom hems of his pants were stopped above his knees by a column of overlaid thick scale plates that went from the end of his long ankle, up his shin, and protruded just barely above the patella. 

Speaking of his tail, which he reached behind himself and grabbed, guiding it around his hips and up to his chest where he could get a more studious look at it, it had no plates along the top like it did while in his full dragon form. It was thicker at the base of his spine and gradually tapered down to about the width of one of his fingers. It was very prehensile, like a cat’s; even as far as the tip which could curl almost into a perfect U-shape. Letting it go so it could return to its neutral position, he guessed that if it actually hung straight down it would nearly reach the floor. Instead, he supposed because of how his skeleton was constructed, it hung at probably fifty to sixty-degree angle from the lower part of his sacrum, which made it really uncomfortable when it came to sitting in chairs given how far it stuck out.

Sighing deeply, his pants faded away as he walked into the shower stall, glaring at the wall in annoyance when he found his wings wouldn’t fit; folded, they were nearly two-thirds of his normal human height; he had no idea what his wingspan was. Extending them behind himself, he figured he could at least wash as much of himself as he could reach. Thinking, he realized this would be the first shower that he had since T-day, as Lance liked to call it. The water running down his body felt peculiar when it touched his scales now that he was paying attention. Before, when working with Keith in the pool, he was more focused on helping the naga than himself. To be honest, though, he didn’t know what to think of the feeling.

Spotting the jar and investigating its contents, he deigned to just wash his hair with it. Once rinsed and dried, he settled for wrapping a towel around his waist before entering the bedroom again. Staring at the clothing, he seriously wondered how he was going to solve this major problem; he wondered if Ryner would be offended if the only thing he wore from the outfit to the dinner was the sash.  


* * *

Pidge was not happy about being yanked away by Allura from the small group of engineers that had been assigned to work with her on her personal project just as she was explaining to them the reasoning behind it. Formal dinners weren’t her thing, especially not when there was work to be done. It’s not that she didn’t understand the importance of public appearances, she simply had different priorities.

Once inside her room, which she did not know was like Keith’s, she found a flat green box on the couch. Setting her laptop next to it, she pulled out the carefully folded clothes and she cringed; of course, they had not been appropriately tailored. She immediately wondered how fast the tunic could be adjusted. Holding it in her left hand, she buzzed the intercom.

“Room service, how may I help?”

“Yeah, it’s Pidge, the Green Paladin. How fast can I get someone to alter some clothes for me? I need it done within a varga.” Even as she was asking, she didn’t think that the Olkari could follow through with such a random request at a hotel, even if it is one that is catered to the high class and such.

Some muffled sputtering on the other end shocked her. “Of course, of course, Green Paladin! We’ll get right on that and send a tailor up to your quarters.”

Okay, so maybe they would go to such great, possibly absurd lengths to fulfill a request.

She took up a seat on the couch, draping the tunic over the back and moving her laptop to the foot table. With nothing to do but wait, she started looking over the castle ship’s readings yet again.

Not even ten minutes passed before there was an irregular staccato knock at her door. She quickly answered and was met with a shorter than average Olkari who was struggling to appear to not be out of breath. Pidge decided to break the ice. “Hi there. You the tailor they sent.”

Trying not to breathe so hard, they answered, “That I am, Paladin-”

“Enough with the Paladin title. Just call me Pidge. Come in and do what you need. I have to have these clothes fixed before Ryner’s big celebration dinner tonight.” She stepped aside, letting the Olkari enter.

“Right away. First, I’ll need to take some measurements. What clothing do you need to be adjusted?” she was asked as the Olkari picked up a large rectangular tool box to follow her in.

Pidge picked up the tunic laying on the couch. “I need holes or slits or whatever you tailors call them cut into the back of this so my wings will fit through.”

The Olkari took the garment and studied the back of it. Pidge could see the wheels turning in their head. They set it back down on the couch, opened their toolbox and pulled out a long strip that Pidge could only assume was a measuring tape given the many spools of colored thread, scissors, pin cushion, and all other sorts of materials that a tailor might have in a quick kit. “If you would stand with your back to me, I’ll begin immediately.”

Pidge obliged. The first thing she felt was the tape up against the C7 vertebra at the base of her neck and then the slight pressure of the tape being pulled tight and pressed along her spine. The Olkair muttered something to themselves and moved the tape to go across her back, just above the joints of her wings. The tape then went under her wings where the membranes reached just a couple inches above her natural waist. Then there was no pressure at all, replaced by the scratching of a writing tool on a rough surface. “Okay, the last measurement I need is the length of one of your wings. Please unfurl one, either to the side or straight back, whichever is more comfortable.”

Quiznack. 

Every movement she had made them do before was subconscious, even when dressing herself. Trying not to feel panicked or rushed, she brought her attention inwards, feeling where her limbs were, flexing the muscles in them to verify what each was. She could feel the wings, feel their weight against her back and hyperfocused on them, commanding them to move. She made one twitch which confused the Olkari. “Can they not be moved?” they asked.

Pidge flushed a bit with irritated embarrassment. “No, they can move. It’s just, I’ve never intentionally moved them before. It’s always been subconscious. Normally I don’t have wings.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s a long story that no one can make sense of yet.” Blowing out a breath, she asked, “Would you take one and move it to where you need it. I’m sure I can manage to hold it in place.”

“As you wish.”

She could feel the movement, feel the touch of the Olkari’s hand and fingers as the lightly grasped the outside edge and pulled ever so gently, guiding the limb. Emotionally she felt very frustrated. Connecting with her Lion and forging a deeper bond in the midst of a heavy battle had been easier that becoming more familiar with her alien body. She had been spending nearly all of her time trying to understand the cause and how to undo it, sacrificing the understanding of herself as a result. Well, she had a new goal in mind; a new priority. Feeling the limb at maximum extension, she held it there, satisfied that she could at least do that. She felt the light touch of a measuring tape first along the length of it, then the width. “Okay, you can relax,” the Olkari instructed after less than a minute. Letting the wing return to its neutral position was so simple, so quick, so instinctive; she wanted to make that the case for all other voluntary movements concerning the appendages. “I’m finished with the measurements and will begin with the alteration. I will do my best not to disturb you.”

“It’s okay.” Pidge pivoted on her foot to see the Olkari pulling supplies out of their box and set them on the foot table. To give them space, Pidge grabbed her laptop and climbed on the bed, legs crossed and laptop in front of them. She set a program up to run yet another algorithm and decided to focus on getting to know herself while the Olkari worked, thinking that she should have followed Keith’s example sooner. Oh well, better late than never.  


* * *

Hunk had gone back inside the castle ship to wait out the day instead of doing nothing in the elevator. There had to be four or so hours before dusk and he wasn’t about to idle that time away. 

The first place he headed was the bridge where he hoped to find Coran. To his disappointment though, the advisor wasn’t there. His second guess was the control room so he started the way there. He encountered the mice at the elevator. “Hi, guys. Do you know where I can find Coran?” he asked, squatting down.

The mice started squeaking and chattering over each other. “Whoa! Whoa! One at a time!” Understanding that their message wasn’t getting through, Platt picked up Chuchule and carefully rested the other mouse across his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, miming walking by alternating lifting each foot. “Okay, so Coran is carrying something somewhere. What is the thing he’s carrying?”

Platt set Chuchule down who in turn turned to Plattchu and mimed shooting the mouse who responded by falling over as if dead. Hunk took a few moments to think. “Coran has one of the animals Lance shot?” Plattchu promptly got to their feet, squeaking and jumping with the others at Hunk’s correct guess. “So, Coran is taking the animal somewhere. To the docking elevator?” The mice squeaked and jumped again. “Okay. So he’s probably going to see if the Olkari can butcher that one that Keith calls an alien capybara. I likely just missed him.” He was about to stand when a thought occurred to him. “Would you guys know where I could find a sketchbook? I let the Olkari take mine for a while.”

All four mice shook their heads no.

Hunk smiled softly. It was worth a try. Paper or its likeness probably wasn’t kept in a high tech space castle. He was just about to stand and leave the mice to their own devices when they started squeaking at him again. “Pardon?” They all waved at him to follow and then started running down the hall towards the elevator. “Okay…?”

Stepping inside, he looked at them. Chulatt motioned to be picked up, and once Hunk complied, pointed to the buttons. He moved the mouse closer, moving from the top button down at a slow pace, watching for a signal from Chulatt. When the mouse pointed to a button, Hunk pushed it and then set the mouse down; he had never been on the level that Chulatt had picked.

Once the elevator opened again, all four raced out, Hunk on their heels. They lead him to a closed room. “Uh, I’ve never been here before. Are you sure it’s okay that I go in?” All four nodded and squeaked. Hunk shrugged and pushed the entry button.

The room was dark at first, but the moment he set a foot forward, lights flickered on, blinding him for a few moments. When his vision cleared, what he saw reminded him of Earth.

The room was of average size, fitting about twenty people comfortably. There were eight distinct workstations, two each on opposing walls and four in the center of the room. Immediately in front was a large projector. He guessed that this was a small projects room of some sort. Stepping further in, he examined one of the stations.

It was pretty basic, much like his station on the bridge; dashboard and curved chair. What was different was the thick layer of dust covering the surface of everything. “No one has been in this room for ages,” he commented, brushing aside some dust with his big hand. “How does a sealed space castle collect so much dirt?” To his surprise, this display lit up and projected a typical tactile holoscreen which proceeded to change screens as though running through a boot sequence. “Hm?” Noticing that the screen was glitching, he swept off more dust. That seemed to stabilize it. After a couple minutes the screen stalled, showing what was basically a computer work screen, just with Altean glyphs for icons. There was one that looked like a writing instrument though, drawing a single line that disappeared into perspective. Finger curled under his chin, he tapped it. A stylus manifested to the side of the screen as the display shifted to what was undoubtedly a graphics program. “Cool!”

The mice squeaked and chittered their excitement at Hunk’s discovery. He turned to look at them. “Is this what you wanted to show me?” He was answered with squeaks and nods of affirmation. “Thanks. I think I’ll clean this place up first.” They nodded and ran off to their own devices. Hunk smiled a toothy smile and made his way to a cleaning closet on another level.

He had no idea how long it had been between finding the room and hearing Coran’s voice quietly say, “Ah, Number 2. Seems you have found an old drafting room.”

Hunk turned toward the doorway, seeing the advisor calmly standing there with his arms behind his back. The troll had cleaning gloves on his hands and a polishing rag in one of them, as well as a sheepish guilty expression on his face. “Oh, hi Coran. I’m sorry if I shouldn’t be here. The mice led me here and I poked around a bit-”

The Altean held up his hand. “It’s perfectly fine, Hunk.” 

The troll relaxed.

“Back before the war, many ideas were born in this room. Ideas that grew and grew, later coming to fruition, such as the Paladin Armor,” Coran reminisced, hands folded behind his back again. There was a proud yet sad expression on his face.

“Allura’s father worked in here?” Hunk asked, setting aside his rag in favor of giving Coran his full attention.

“No. He was not involved in the creation of the armor itself but did give his input on many occasions. This room is where the apprentices worked, both engineer and artist, to develop and hone their skills.”

Hunk looked around the room, imagining Alteans working on various projects, wondering what kind of creations the would come up with. His eyes were full of awe and excitement. Coran brought him back to reality. “You are welcomed to use this room in your free time, Number 2.”

“Aw, thanks, Coran. I’d hug you, but I’m covered in dirt.”

“I’ll take a tetohu wai then.”

“A what?”

“You know, accept something offered at a later time when it’s more available.”

“Oh! A rain check. Okay, rain check it is!”

“Pleasantries wasn’t the only reason I came to find you. The Olkari are hosting a celebratory dinner for all you Paladins for your success in the latest battle. Ryner has sent some celebratory clothing that she wishes for you to wear to the dinner. I took the liberties of leaving it in your room. The dinner will be served in approximately two vargas so you have plenty of time to clean up and make yourself presentable.”

“Uh, what about the sun? That’s why I didn’t go with the others because I found that I can’t be in the sunlight, though the reason has yet to be determined.”

“I’m told the dinner will be after dusk and in a private garden. Ryner is very aware of your current predicament.”

“And I am very appreciative of it. I’ll have to thank her when I see her. Are you coming too?”

“Yes, I have been invited to attend as well. A guide will come collect us before the dinner so we need not worry about trying to find the specific garden where which the feast is being held.”

“Good to know. I’ll finish up here since I’m almost done, and then clean myself up.”

“I leave you to it then, Number 2,” Coran smiled and turned on his heel. Hunk promptly got back to cleaning.  


* * *

Hunk and Coran were the last ones to arrive at the dinner. They weren’t late, by all means, just the last of the important guests to arrive.

The dinner was lavishly arranged. There were three long tables resting parallel to one another, and at the head of them, perpendicular, was a smaller long table and still behind it, resting on higher ground, another medium sized long table. Standing behind the chairs of that head table, all dressed similarly save for the colors of their sashes, from right to left, were Lance, Keith, Shiro, and Pidge. There was one empty seat that he immediately guessed was his. Behind the chairs of the smaller table in front of the Paladins was Ryner and Allura. Coran saw arrangement too, and with a gentle push on the troll’s back, encouraged him to step up.

“Uh, hi everyone,” he greeted as soon as he was close enough for his quiet voice to be heard.

“Hunk! I’m so glad you could be here!” Allura beamed, her hands together in front of her chest. “I was afraid that there would still be too much light for you,” she continued, her gaze following him around the tables to his seat.

Once he got to his seat, Hunk tapped his pointer fingers together, timid. “Yeah, apparently sunset is as much light as my instincts will allow me to handle.” Taking his spot behind his seat, he leaned just slightly enough to see Keith. “How are you feeling now, Keith?”

The naga was barely succeeding in covering an expression of major discomfort at how blatantly displayed he and the others were being. “Better.” He was inwardly struggling not to fold his arms in front of everyone and appear closed off.

“Oh, Ryner. Thanks for scheduling the dinner after sundown,” Hunk interrupted himself.

“You’re most welcome, Hunk. It is important, after all, that the entirety of the Voltron team be present for the celebration. So appropriate accommodations were made.” Ryner then changed her focus from him and the paladins to the company that was joining them for dinner. “Welcome, everyone! We gather here this evening in gratitude for the extensive efforts that the Paladins of Voltron have gone to stop the Galra Empire and to celebrate the success of their latest major attack.”

“Praise Voltron!” chorused the group.

Ryner continued on with her speech which Hunk tuned out in favor of whispering to Shiro, “How did you manage to get into those clothes?”

“Patience yields focus,” Pidge answered, stifling a snort.

Shiro wanted so much to cuff her but kept his hand still. Instead, he frowned at her. Keith though, couldn’t stop a slight smirk.

“No, seriously. How did you?”

“With the same science-defying mumbo-jumbo that allows him to turn into and back from a dragon,” Pidge answered again.

“I was asking Shiro,” Hunk frowned.

“Shh!” Shiro hissed.

Guiltily, Hunk looked forward and tuned back in just in time to hear Ryner say, “During the feast, if you desire, you may bring forth and present a single gift to the Paladins.”

“Oh boy,” Hunk sighed.

“Now, let us enjoy the feast!” Ryner announced with raised hands, motioning for everyone to take their seats.

Turning from the waist to find his seat, Hunk noticed that Shiro had been given a chair with no back on it, Lance had been given a large, soft cushion to lie belly down on, and Keith’s tail was wrapped around his seat. He also noticed that Pidge’s top had been adjusted so her small wings could fit through and not be pinned underneath the material.

Taking his seat, he took in the table setting in front of him. There were five candles at the front of the table with a glowing stone giving off a soft luminance. They sat in front of some broad-leafed adornment that stretched across the length of the table. The cutlery was silver colored while the plates and chalices appeared to be molded from wood. The plates sat on intricate placemats that were embossed with circling vines and blooming flowers along the edges. The tablecloths that draped over all the tables were an olive-grey and like the paladin table were similarly set up. There had to be about fifty guests present, not including himself, his teammates, Allura or Coran.

From outside the dining zone, servers brought dishes of food. Princess Allura and the paladins were served first, then Ryner and Coran - the advisor had been guided to a seat next to the Olkari leader - and finally the rest of the guests.

Unfortunately, the chefs apparently didn’t get word of the specific dietary needs of one particular paladin.

Keith winced; what was he supposed to do?

Shiro immediately sensed his teammate’s distress and leaned over. “Nibble at it for appearances. Also, spread it around your plate to make it look like you’ve eaten some of it.”

“That’s not going to work for the main course, Shiro,” Keith whispered.

Lance leaned in. “Sneak some onto my plate then. Small bits at a time so you aren’t being obvious.”

Keith looked at Lance just enough to let the centaur know he had his attention. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”

Lance gave a reserved smile. “Uncle, remember. And let’s just say that I’m not the most perfect of role models.”

Shiro added, “If you feel the need, slip some onto my plate too.”

“Got it.”

The appetizer looked fruit based. Per suggestion, he nibbled on a bit, dreading what was likely going to happen later. Still, he was a bit sad that he couldn’t taste the flavor of the fruit. When he was sure he wasn’t being watched, grateful for the trim at the front of the table, he spooned some over to Lance who quickly made it disappear.

The first dish was some sort of mixed berry salad with greens. This was harder to make disappear; the fruit was easy to slip over to Lance, the greens though, he found himself eating a few of those. Without the ability to chew them very well, they tended to stick in his throat. He tried to wash it down with water, only to find that what was in his glass was pressed juice. He barely avoided choking on it from shock.

“You okay there?” Shiro asked.

Keith nodded. “I’ll live. How is Pidge handling all of this?”

“Same as you, sneaking food on other plates. But, something tells me she’s not going to be hit as hard as you when this is all over.”

“Please, don’t bring that up right now.”

“Keith, quick, switch plates with me,” Lance urged, grabbing his attention. Keith complied, feeling like he was being watched the whole time but in truth the switch was quick. Lance made quick work of the leftover greens.

The second dish looked like a legume soup. There was something pink in the broth that Keith thought was meat. He was willing to eat that, though also wondered what the point was given everything else he ate; the meat would probably go to waste. So he slipped it into Shiro’s bowl. Just mere seconds after he went back to pretend eating, three Olkari approached the table, the one in the middle carrying a bowl of sliced crimson red something. The middle one stood a pace in front of the others and presented the bowl to Shiro. “I would like to give to the Paladins of Voltron the first dinja of the harvest.”

The half-dragon wasn’t sure how to accept the gift, so he simply said, “Thank you.” The Olkari extended the bowl further towards him, indicating what he hoped was that he should take a piece. Slowly, he reached out his hand and when the Olkari made no protest, selected one. He looked at it for a few seconds and then bit into it, pleased by the sweet taste. While he had been inspecting his portion, the bowl had been passed to the Olkari on his right who presented it to Lance, then Keith. The bowl then passed to the Olkari on the left who presented it to Hunk and finally Pidge.

Because they were being observed expectantly, they all ate it.

Overjoyed, the Olkari moved to Allura’s table and presented Allura first, then Coran, with a sample of their produce as well.

And thus the feast continued. There was a pause between the second and third dishes where various Olkari groups presented a variety of gifts to the paladins and the Alteans, most being samples of food of sorts. On one occasion, a strong drink was offered. Shiro expressed gratitude for the offer and as politely as he could, declined the gift, explaining that the physiology of his fellow teammates could not handle the drink and therefore he would not partake of any himself. His dragon hearing picked up Lance complain, “Spoilsport,” under his breath.

The third dish was a stuffed vegetable that resembled a meat squash. Or maybe it was a crusted meat that was stuffed. Keith couldn’t tell.

The desert was fruit sorbet.

Keith was feeling sick. He surmised that Pidge was highly likely too. It was a fight of mind over matter now.

Ryner stood, immediately bringing everyone’s attention. “I would like to formally close the feast. Thank you all for attending.” She turned to address Shiro, “Have you anything you wish to include, Black Paladin?”

Shiro stood and with a carrying voice, said, “Thank you all for your presence and your gifts. Your support is collectively felt by Voltron and we hope that you will continue to do so as our allies in the fight against the Galra.”

“Praise Voltron!” the Olkari cheered.

Shiro sat back down, fatigued. Ryner spoke to them all. “If you wish, you can retire for the night or linger as long as you wish. I’m sure that there are those who would enjoy some one-on-one conversation with the Paladins.”

“Thanks, but I’m turning in,” Keith hastily said.

“I’ll stay for a bit,” Lance said.

“Me too,” echoed Hunk.

“I’m with Keith,” Pidge countered.

“I’ll stay as well,” Shiro answered.

“I’ll have someone take Keith and Pidge back to their rooms,” Ryner said.

“Thanks,” Keith and Pidge replied simultaneously.

That night, finally alone in his room, Keith hastily stripped out of his clothes as he beelined it towards the bathroom, and threw up everything that he had been coerced into eating and probably then some. Pidge, he guessed, was probably doing the same thing.

Rib cage throbbing and abdominal muscles burning, and though he was sorely tempted to down another Altean painkiller, he slithered into bed, coiling up underneath the blankets with only his head sticking out.

Sleep was stubborn about carrying him away into the world of weird dreams.  


* * *

The morning after the dinner feast, Lance did not show up to the private breakfast being served on one of the large balconies that happened to be attached to a room specifically meant for special venues. It was heavily shaded so Hunk had joined them. And though Keith still had no appetite, especially after the night before, he was with the group as well.

“It’s unlike Lance to be late for breakfast,” Allura commented.

“Well, yesterday was pretty eventful and went late into the night. He probably needs the extra sleep,” Pidge offered, sipping at something that was an Olkari version of decaffeinated coffee, though the consistency of the brew was more like tea.

“Still, he needs to eat. It’s been made obvious that he needs a greater amount of calories since the transformation,” Shiro worried.

“With the amount of food he ate last night, I don’t think missing breakfast will be problematic,” Hunk said calmly.

Keith sipped at some lightly brewed floral tea when there was a light knock on the door. “Pardon the intrusion,” a voice announced before an Olkair entered. “The Blue Paladin requests the presence of the Yellow Paladin.”

The troll immediately got to his feet. “That’s concerning. I’ll hurry and see what’s up.”

“I’ll come with you,” Shiro offered, placing both hands on the table The Olkari attendant held up their hand. “His request was specifically for the one called Hunk and also requested that none others accompanied him.”

“Okay, that really doesn’t sound good,” Hunk replied, worrying his lip. “Take me to his room.”

The attendant nodded. They walked swiftly out of the room, Hunk wishing the Olkari would either jog or run because of how worried he was. Taking the elevator to the fourth floor, Hunk was lead to the fifth room. The attendant knocked on the door. “I have brought the Yellow Paladin, Blue Paladin, Lance.”

“Hunk?” Lance’s voice came through the door.

“Yeah, I’m here. What’s so bad that you specifically wanted me?”

“Help...” the reply was pained.

The troll looked at the attendant. “Please let me in. He needs me.” Nodding, the attendant opened the door with an employee access key code. Hunk hurried in, scanning the room for the centaur. To his horror, he found his friend on the floor in front of the bed instead of in the large bed itself, legs tucked tightly under himself and he was hugging a pillow, grimacing.

“Lance!”

“Th-that’s me.”

“Lance, tell me what’s wrong.”

“...apricots.” Lance seethed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated.
> 
> Oh! Chronicles of a Centaur in Space is now being uploaded to Archive. All the chapters that have been posted on my tumblr blog are now available for reading on Archive. [Click here to start reading!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13779234/chapters/31673559)
> 
> There is also some wicked fanart I commissioned from [Andrena-Rae](https://www.patreon.com/AndrenaRae) [right here](https://bucketoffudgeinamuffin.tumblr.com/post/171352235246/hello-my-followers-and-readers-i#notes)


	19. Adventures in Setbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is ailing Lance?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is unbeted.

Hunk winced hard, drawing back a little. “How bad?”

“On a scale of one to ten, probably a thirteen.”

“You’ve never been that high before. How much did you eat?” the troll asked, moving so he could sit next to Lance’s head. His back against the foot of the bed, legs perpendicular to Lance’s presently linear form, he carefully lifted Lance’s head, encouraging the centaur to lay it on it leg instead of the floor and gingerly carded his fingers through his friend’s damp hair, taking in his disheveled state; there was sweat beading on his forehead and the light blue Olkari tunic that he had been given as sleepwear was bunched up underneath the centaur’s arms, showing off the merger between horse and human where sweat was beading, and there was sweat lines just barely reaching past the neckline on the front.

In short, Lance looked pretty bad.

“I think half of the fruit we had plus the juice and maybe even the sorbet had the evil stuff- nrgh!” Lance began, grimacing as a sharp pain went through his horse half, causing his legs to tense. He hugged his pillow tight against his chest. “I- I didn’t see anything that looked like an apricot and didn’t taste anything like an apricot.”

“Plus all the stuff you ate for Keith too. And pieced on afterwards. When did the pain start setting in?”

“I dunno. Maybe f- four vargas ago.”

“Why didn’t you call for help then?”

“It wasn’t bad at the time, maybe a three. I tho- I thought I could sleep it off.”

“Okay. Nevermind the details. What do you need me to do right now?”

He relaxed a bit, not trying to suffocate his pillow anymore. “Tie my tail up for starters. And not a braid either. Tie it up as high as you can, as tight as you can.”

“Are we talking DEFCON 3?”

“No, it’s just barely five right now, but when it gets to three, I d- I don’t want to make a mess of myself, especially since I can’t reach back there.”

“Alright. I need to get something to tie it up with but, I’ll be back as fast as I can. Allura probably has some hair ties or clips that will work. She’s going to want to know the reason though. The whole team is. What should I tell them?”

Lance thought for a bit, grimacing and hugging his pillow tightly again for a few seconds before replying. “Tell them just enough to get the point across. But also tell them that I don’t wa- I don’t want anyone but you around until this is over with. If- if they ask why, just tell them that I won’t be favorable company for a while.” He released his death grip on the pillow.

“Want me to open a window?” Hunk asked. He stopped carding through his friend’s hair.

“Probably a good idea.”

Shifting Lance’s head off his leg and standing, Hunk quickly opened it just a crack, letting a light breeze pass through, thankful that the sun hadn’t reached Lance’s room yet. “I’ll be back as fast as I can. And I’ll ask about pain killers. You sorely need something.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Lance breathed deeply through his nose, then out his mouth.

Hunk nearly ran out of the room, settling for something between a jog and speed walking. The attendant was not waiting outside the room so he beelined it to the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently as it descended to the third floor. When he got back to the conference room, the others immediately looked to the door as soon as he opened it, expressions of concern at the fact that Lance wasn’t with them. Keith’s and Shiro’s raised eyebrows did the asking. Taking in a deep breath to steady himself, he said clearly, “Lance is sick.”

“With what?” “How sick?” “What can we do to help?” the team asked all at once, rising halfway from their seats.

Hunk gestured for them to calm down and remain seated. “It’s not a bug or virus. Lance has an intolerance to all fruits with a stone in it; apricots, nectarines, peaches, plums, and even cherries. Apparently, last night at dinner, he unknowingly ate a whole lot of the stuff. So now his body, specifically his digestive system, is inflamed and trying to get rid of it and it’s quite a painful ordeal.”

“Is there anything we can do to ease his pain?” Allura asked.

“Yes and no. First off, he doesn’t want any company and has requested only me to be with him. Most likely because I’ve been with him when this has happened in the past and helped him through it. And, his words verbatim, he is unfavorable company for a while. Second, Allura, do you have any hair ties and clips?”

She nodded. “In my quarters. The Olkari provided a modest sized collection of them. If they will help Lance, I doubt the Olkari will take offense.”

“It’s totally out of character for Lance to not want company when he’s sick,” Pidge observed. “Why is he calling himself unfavorable company?”

“I don’t have his permission to tell you that,” Hunk apologized.

“Majorly out of character,” Pidge added.

“Lastly, do Olkari have injectable pain medication? Pills aren’t going to work for some time.”

Coran was the one to answer, “I would be surprised if they don’t. I shall fetch a medic right now. Should I send them to Lance’s room?”

“Yes.” Looking at Allura as the advisor hurriedly left, Hunk asked, “Could you get those hair accessories? Or may I come with you to your room? I would like to sort through them to find the best ones for the task.”

“Of course you can come with me, Hunk. It will be much quicker that way.” The princess quickly rose to her feet, placing her napkin next to her plate.

“What are the rest of us supposed to do?” Keith questioned, setting his cup on the table.

“Keep working with the Olkari. I’ll let everyone know when Lance is feeling well enough for visitors but to be honest, that probably won’t be until late tonight at the soonest.”

“Just how sick is he?” Shiro asked, his tail thrashing intermittently as he internally struggled to stay seated on his stool.

“This is the worst that I’ve seen him during one of these aftermath episodes, to be honest. And I think it’s largely in part because he’s got more physical body to him and ate more than he has ever done so in the past. It may even be because it’s space fruit. But, give him some time and personal space, and he will pull through it and be right as rain. I’m positive on that, Shiro. So don’t worry so much.”

Shiro was clenching his fists underneath the table. “Alright, I trust you.”

“Good. Let’s go, Allura.”

Moments after they left, Keith rose from his seat. Pidge looked up from her coffee. “Where are you going?”

“Uh.. to my room… which happens to be next to Lance’s.”

“Hunk said Lance didn’t want company,” Pidge pressed.

“I won’t go in. I just- I need to tell him something.” Keith moved away from his seat but was stopped by Pidge again. “It can wait, can’t it?”

“No.” With that, Keith hurried out the door.

* * *

Keith slithered up to Lance’s door, hesitating for several moments with his knuckles facing the metal. Taking in a deep breath, he rapped twice. “Lance?”

“Not now, Keith.”

“I know. Hunk said you didn’t want company. But, I wanted to thank you for- for helping me get through last night. I’m probably part of the reason you’re sick.” Keith looked at the floor feeling guilty.

“Not your fault, Keith. Even if I had known beforehand, I would still be eating the stuff s- so as to not appear ungrateful to the Olkari. It’s... one of those unavoidable circumstances, you know?”

Having had to eat a lot of the different foods presented to them as gifts, he did understand. A soft smile touched his lips. “Yeah.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need some time to recover is all.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Don’t worry so much,” Lance answered. There were several moments of silence, Keith unsure of what to do next. Lance piped up, “You should go rest. I know bruised ribs don’t heal overnight.”

Sighing with amusement and lightly grasping his left side, Keith nodded at the door. “I’ll do that.” A few more moments of silence passed before he added, “I’ll be in my room if you change your mind about wanting company.”

“It’s noted. Seriously though, Keith, don’t beat yourself up about this.”

Keith nodded even though Lance couldn’t see him. Unsure of what else to say, he headed for his own room. To his surprise, he found an apron-wearing Olkari already in it, cleaning the bathroom. “Uh…”

“Oh! Pardon the intrusion, Paladin Keith. I had hoped to finish up before you returned.” They immediately stopped wiping the top of the vanity to face him.

“It’s… fine.”

“If you don’t mind my nosiness, are you injured?”

Oh yeah, he had left the bandages on the floor yesterday. And the paste in the shower. Feeling embarrassed, his face went a slight pink; no one should have to clean up after him. The Olkari saw the blush though. “I’m sorry! You don’t have to tell me, it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s… okay. I’m sorry. I meant to clean up after last night’s dinner.”

“In my humble opinion, you should visit a medic.”

“I’m fine, really. It’s just some bruising.”

The expression on the Olkari’s face spoke volumes about not buying Keith’s lie. But, they didn’t press. “If you insist. I’ll leave shortly, I’m nearly finished. I’ve changed the towels for you and I understand why you left the bandages where they were. Forgive our poor hospitality, we forgot to leave you a waste basin! You have one now.”

Keith nodded, the heat from his face fading. “Take as long as you need.” The Olkari nodded, returning to their cleaning while Keith made his way over to the balcony. Taking off his jacket, he left it on the single chair that was left on the deck. The sun was just barely touching the railing of the balcony but the weather was still warm, so he decided a short nap would be fine. He also had the feeling that the heat would help him recover faster from purging nearly everything in his stomach last night. 

He was moderately aware of the cleaning maid leaving his room as he dozed.

* * *

There was a tense silence in the atmosphere that Pidge and Shiro were left in, both their worries and concerns for their teammate waxing thick within it. Pidge finished her alien coffee, wrinkled her nose at the spread on her plate and then decided she would skip breakfast and hope that someone down the grapevine would get the news that at least two paladins were on a strict mostly meat diet. When she stood, sliding her chair back, Shiro looked up from his almost empty plate. “And where are you off too?”

“R&D. I’m hoping that the engineers can help me create a one-way visor that I can see through so I don’t always have to wear this blindfold. Seeing through my snakes isn’t going to be an option when my helmet is on.”

“That is a problem that had not occurred to me,” Shiro admitted.

“A guide is supposed to come pick me up in a few doboshes or so; I wasn’t exactly paying attention to my surroundings when Allura took me away to get ready for last night, so I don’t know how to get back on my own.”

“Seems like everyone but me has a place to be,” the half-dragon toyed with the small remainder of vegetarian breakfast. He was feeling quite useless.

On the heels of his words, Allura walked back into the room, returning to her seat. “You are welcomed to join me in further discussions with Ryner about the refugee details.” Setting her napkin back in her lap, she added, “Though, I think the engineers would need your presence and assistance in the construction and design of your new armor. Hunk was telling me that he felt bad for not being able to work with the two that he had met yesterday because Lance needs him more.”

Shiro nodded.

Coran returned moments later. “I’ve called for a medic. The staff will make sure that they get to Lance’s quarters as soon as they arrive.” He twisted his mustache before adding, “Also, out of concern for Keith’s health, I’ve requested that he get a thorough physical. The Olkari are much better equipped than the castle ship is and the more we find out about you paladins and your transformations, the better prepared we will be.”

“Thanks, Coran,” Shiro responded, smiling.

“I’m happy to be of some help, Number 1.”

Several thoughts scrambled for Shiro’s attention before one made it to the forefront. “Coran, if you don’t have any plans for today, could you do me a favor?”

* * *

Lance jerked at the knock on his door, surprised that he had dozed off. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Lance. Uh, you’re gonna have to open the door, it’s locked from the inside,” Hunk answered, apologetic.

“Fantastic,” Lance complained under his breath. Painstakingly slow, he got his hooves underneath him and abandoned his pillow to push himself upright, wincing as his abdominal muscles from both halves complained. Standing was a chore and more laborious than it should have been, however, sighing deeply, he staggered over to the door and rammed his thumb on the entry button. He smiled at Hunk who was not fooled by his friend’s attempt to mask his pain. Hurrying in, he set his light load, in the form of a small woven basket, on the foot table and immediately went to the bed for the pillows, placing them on the floor in front of it. While he worked, Lance worked with the door. “Come lay back down. You’re almost as pale as a ghost,” Hunk instructed after a couple of minutes.

“Gladly,” Lance sighed heavily, slowly staggering over. With a heavy thump, he dropped to his knees, then his belly, and then leaned forward and tipped over onto his side, his torso resting on the pillows Hunk had just laid down, back against the foot of the bed. The exertion of just opening the door had washed him out, taking with it his meager build up of tolerance against the pain wracking his digestive system. He stifled a moan, transforming it into a grunt, nearly suffocating his pillow again.

Hunk retrieved his load from the foot table, sat on the floor, and went to work on tying up Lance’s tail. To distract his friend, he started talking. “You know, for not having any hair themselves, it’s interesting that the Olkari have hair accessories. It’s like they went out of their way to make them for Allura. They even had brushes and combs. The brushes though I don’t think would work on your coarse tail, so I opted for just the combs.” As he spoke of the combs, he started working a wide-toothed one through Lance’s tail. “There wasn’t much in types of hair accessories, mostly clips and pins, but the variety of colors! Allura insisted on picking out which colors to use once I decided on what style of accessories would work. So when I’m done, you will have a very stylish tail.”

Lance smiled and huffed a quiet laugh at that. His eyes closed as a hint of his discomfort was soothed away by Hunk’s grooming menstruations. He could feel the moment when his friend started dividing the hair to braid it. “Huh, so horses have longer tails that I thought. Either that or you’re just weird.”

“Hey!” Lance protested, eyes snapping open so he could glare at the troll.

Hunk waved him down. “I jest, I jest. Though it looks like I’ll have to approach this in sections, not just one big braid to bundle up. It may even work better that way.” Dropping the hair he had in his hands, the troll ran his fingers through the length of it, scrupulously examining the grain and length. Lance couldn’t tell what he was doing specifically aside from working closer to the base of his tail, not the tip where it actually ended.

A major stab of pain ran through his horse half causing his back legs to jerk. It surprised and worried Hunk. “You doing okay?”

“Peachy.” Lance didn’t mean to be grouchy, but he was so tired and that last stab of pain hurt!

“Coran is looking for a doctor about those pain meds. I’m sure he’s going as fast as he can to get someone here.” There was a clicking sound as Hunk closed a hair clip on Lance’s tail. Just as the troll was about to begin working on another section, there was a polite, inquisitive knock at the door. “That might be the doctor now.”

“I hope so,” Lance replied tiredly.

Hunk opened the door to a tall Olkari dressed in grey carrying a moderately sized business case. “I was sent here by the Altean called Coran. The Blue Paladin is ill?”

“Yeah. He ate something last night that he’s intolerant to.” Hunk stepped aside to let the Olkari in. They immediately spotted Lance and politely approached him, kneeling down in front of the centaur’s torso at a respectable space. “Tell me your symptoms aside from the pain. The Altean mentioned that when I was contacted.”

Reluctantly, Lance lifted his head, propped himself up on his elbow and answered. “Stomach cramps and bloating right now. It’s normal for a reaction like this.”

“And how long have you been symptomatic?”

“About… four or five vargas now.”

The Olkari opened their case. Lance could not see what was inside it since the back of it was facing him. “I’ll administer an intramuscular anti-inflammatory that should help with the pain for four to six vargas. I will also leave some oral doses to be taken as needed afterward. And as a precaution, I will also leave a single quick-acting dose of Gilfan in case of an anaphylactic reaction. If your symptoms worsen, or you do slip into anaphylaxis, please send for me immediately,” they spoke while working with something out of Lance’s sight. And then he saw the vial and syringe.

He hated needles.

Immediately he looked away, slumping back down off his elbow and burying his face in his pillow. His voice muffled, he told the Olkari, “Don’t tell me, just make it quick.” He felt something touch his side near his back end and unintentionally held his breath. “It’s done,” he heard Hunk say milliseconds later. He blew out the breath and pulled away from the pillow, ever so glad he didn’t feel the prick.

The doctor packed away the used syringe and then handed a bottle and what appeared to be an epi-pen to Hunk. “These are for later should you need them.” Closing their case and standing, they looked at Lance. “I wish a quick recovery for you, Paladin.”

“Thanks,” Lance said, raising an arm to give the Olkari a thumbs up.

“I’ll be sure to let you know if he gets worse,” Hunk promised, seeing the Olkari out the door. When they were gone, he set the drugs on the foot table and returned to sitting on the floor to work on his friend’s tail, taking a moment to lean forward and soothingly rub the injection site. “You took it like a man.”

Lance let his arm flop limply back to the floor. “Shut up, Hunk.”

Hunk just chuckled, knowing all too well that there was no maliciousness behind Lance’s words.

“Why didn’t you tell them about the rest of it?” Hunk asked softly, resuming his work.

“Because it’s embarrassing. Besides, what can they do about it? All the doctors back home did was give me pain meds and tell me to let it run its course, and to contact them if I got worse. Same as that Olkari doc just did.”

“And to stay hydrated.”

“Well, I know that already. I don’t need to be told again.”

“You know, they might actually have something more that would possibly help you skip through the rest of this.”

“Alien food is as far as I’m adventuring. As long as I can avoid it, I’m steering clear of space alien medicine.”

“Well, the Altean pods are space alien medicine.”

“Those are different.”

“Why?”

“Because I say so.”

Hunk chuckled again. “Whatever, buddy.”

The friendly bickering was interrupted by the distinctive sound of Lance’s horse belly churning. Lance mumbled, looking back at Hunk, “Better hurry up back there.”

Hunk snapped another clip closed. “Almost done. I’ve got one more section to do before I can tie it all up.”

Hugging his pillow against his chest, Lance said slowly, “You know, Keith came by. He thinks it’s his fault I’m sick.”

“That guy is too willing to take the all the blame, even when he had nothing to do with whatever may have happened.”

“I wouldn’t say he would go that far. Well… maybe he would. Since we found out he’s part Galra, I’m sure he feels the need to take responsibility for this whole universal war even though he seriously, like the rest of us, just barely learned of its existence.”

“I’m sure you explained to him that it couldn’t be helped. Last night was completely out of everyone’s hands. Even this is out of both of your hands.”

Lance nodded. “I did. He seemed to accept that explanation. It was kinda hard to tell without being able to see his face.”

“So he stayed out? The way you were talking I thought he had ignored me telling him you wanted no visitors.”

“Yeah, he stayed out. Though he did offer to come back if I changed my mind.”

Hunk closed two clips onto the rest of Lance’s tail. He then proceeded to fold it up on itself as well as on top of the vertebrae. “You think maybe Keith’s trying too hard for something?” Using several ribbons, he secured the hair in place. “There, finished.”

Lance pushed himself up to look at Hunk’s handiwork. He huffed a light laugh. “Blue and gold huh. I wonder if there’s a hidden message there.” Flopping back down, he sighed. “Pain meds are kicking in.”

“You going to be okay while I run out to get some water and other stuff?”

“Yeah. I’ll... I’ll just lay here and doze. Even being half horse... I really don’t think this is going to flip around and get worse.”

“Okay. I’ll be quick.”

Lance just hummed, closing his eyes as Hunk made his way out the door.

* * *

After Shiro had made his request, an Olkari wearing the familiar light orange engineer color came to collect Pidge. She hastily excused herself and grabbed her laptop from the foot table in the room and indicated to the Olkari that she was ready to go. The two exited the building and climbed onto an alien moped, Pidge tightly grasping her laptop against her chest with one arm and wrapped her other arm around the Olkari’s waist to keep from falling off. Though the vehicle was designed for two passengers, given the nature, there were no seatbelts. Although the Olkari wasn’t driving that fast, it was enough to unsettle her while at the same time send sensations of thrill rushes and gut-wrenching fear through her head like waves of hot and cold water as her snakes experienced the rush of the passing wind.

Her ‘hair’ was definitely partially sentient. That both intrigued her and freaked her out. If she found the time between searching for her family, finding the cause of the bizarre transformation into myths and finding a way to see without killing, she would delve into the oddity further.

When they finally stopped in front of their destination, she felt dizzy and nauseous from the bombardment of emotions that didn’t belong to her. She would think that having a telepathic relationship with a magical robot lion would have prepared her somewhat for extra thoughts and feelings in her head. That would be the optimal outcome. To her misfortune though, it didn’t prepare her enough; telepathy was totally separate from biochemically induced reactions.

“Miss Paladin, are you well?” the Olkari asked. It took a few moments for Pidge to collect herself and realize that she had tightened her grip on the driver and had not let go after they had stopped. Quickly, she removed her arm. “Uh, sorry. Yeah, just a bit of an adrenaline rush,” she tried to explain without sounding crazy.

“They are waiting for you. Send a message when you wish to return to the inn and I will take you.”

Dismounting on slightly unstable legs, she nodded. “Okay. Thanks for the ride!” she waved slightly. Spinning on her heel, she jogged into the massive bronze metal building that was the research and development department as the driver drove away.

* * *

The next thing Keith became aware of was a sharp, authoritative knock on the door. “Paladin Keith? Are you present?”

Scowling and thinking that it seriously could have only been maybe eight to ten minutes since he got settled, he rose from his coil to answer the door. “I’m coming.” Before the door opened though he schooled his expression to his usual stoic one. The Olkari at the door was dressed in grey, carrying a case and had a smell taste of disinfectant; a doctor. They were startled by Keith’s nosy tongue but not disturbed by it.

“Pardon the intrusion. The Altean advisor Coran expressed concern for your welfare, stating that you had sustained some significant blunt force trauma and also that your overall health has been lackluster. He requested that we perform a physical assessment, with your permission of course.”

“Uh, sure. Let me grab my jacket.” Backtracking alongside his own tail, he retrieved his jacket from the balcony and quickly shrugged it on; looked like his nap was going to have to wait.

He followed the medic out of the hotel and into another tiny vehicle. After a short ten minute trip to another building complex that Keith surmised was a hospital or the space alien equivalent, a question formed in his mind. Leaving the vehicle and following the medic inside, he asked in a quiet voice, “Do you know much about the Ibabi?”

The doctor didn’t turn to face him when they answered. “I have personally never heard of them. There might be some records in the archives. I can have someone check them for you during the assessment.”

“If it’s not too out of the way.”

“I’ll put in a request. For the present, we should focus on you.”

Keith followed the doctor into the building and down several hallways, into an elevator that went up three floors, down more hallways and finally through two large doors. The room was massive and most notably a titanium metal in color. Various machines that Keith couldn’t even imagine what their function was were up against the wall and resting on counters that reached towards the center of the room adjacent to the walls. Three curtains hung from runners on the ceiling. There were five other Olkari in the room, two working with holo-screens and the other three fiddling with the equipment. The whole environment was intimidating and unwelcoming.

Coran was also there, speaking with one of the Olkari techs working with a holo-screen. Keith felt more at ease but even still, he did not like the place. Hearing Keith’s guide enter the room, he looked up. “Ah, Keith. I’m glad you came.”

“It’s for the best, isn’t it? I mean, the equipment on the castle ship is out of date. And I don’t exactly fit into a pod.”

“Correct on all accounts. Shiro requested that I be here to support you in his place since he’s been whisked away by the engineers for measurements and other studies.”

Keith was instantly concerned, eyes wide. “What for?”

“For armor, what else?” Coran seemed confused by Keith’s alarm.

“Right, right.” Looking around, he added, “What do you need me to do first?”

Coran stepped forward to stand behind the Olkari that guided him. Said Olkari looked at Keith and in a business-like voice, answered, “We must first assess the extent of your injury. Please remove your clothing.”

Shrugging off his jacket, Keith was thankful Shiro was elsewhere for the time being. The half-dragon would probably go instinctual again, just like the time with Pidge.

* * *

Hunk had returned with a wheeled service cart carrying three pitchers of water, two mugs, a plate of some soft snacks that looked like green glutinous rice balls, and a sketch pad and pen from the gift shop to keep himself busy with. Lance had gone from dozing straight into sleep. Hunk decided he would let the centaur sleep for a couple hours while the painkiller worked its magic to help his body relax. Before settling down on the couch, he checked Lance’s temperature with the palm of his hand, pleased to find that it was cool to the touch although slick with clammy sweat. Unconsciously, Lance leaned into the touch, so Hunk moved his hand and ran his fingers through his friend’s hair. An easy, relaxed sigh was the response he got.

Content with his findings, he made himself comfortable on the couch and started doodling.

Not even three minutes later there was a light knock on the door followed by, “Housekeeping.” Hastily he rolled off the couch and answered the door as Lance mumbled into his pillow, “Elineta, cariña, now is not the time to play house. Tío needs his sleep.” The Olkari waiting on the other side was as tall as the troll was and had an eager expression on their face. Holding up his hand, palm outward, he quickly apologized. “Sorry, now isn’t a good time. Would you come back tomorrow?”

They nodded. “I understand. You have a great day!” With a smile, they grabbed their cleaning cart and headed to the next room down the hall.

Letting the door close, Hunk returned to the couch but, before sitting back down, he whispered, “Lance, you awake?” When he got no response, he plopped down and resumed his doodling.

* * *

“Welcome back, Paladin Pidge,” she was greeted as she set foot passed the sliding doors into the massive workshop filled with small polymer manufacturing machines, their version of a welding station, design boards, and a computer station and occupied with eight other Olkari.

“Enough with the pleasantries, there’s work to be done,” she replied, rapidly approaching an open workbench and sliding her laptop onto it, popping it open and immediately booting up various programs. “Just a short recap, I need to find something that I can look through but won’t allow me to accidentally kill someone by petrification.”

“Yes. A very oddly specific request. Have you any data or feedback of this… phenomenon… taking place?” an engineer asked as they approached her to look over her shoulder. They were maybe half a head taller than what she was as a human. 

“That is both fortunate and unfortunate at the same time,” she answered, pausing in her typing to look over her shoulder. On her screen were various visor designs, including one that looked like something from a classic sci-fi entertainment series.

“Perhaps the first step we should take is to capture this phenomenon in progress?”

“Negative. I am not going to willingly stone someone just for the sake of science. There has got to be another way.”

Another engineer from further behind her suggested, “What if we did an optical scan?”

“What would you even look for?” Pidge asked, turning away from her laptop screen to face the Olkari that had made the suggestion. “Unless you’ve got an anatomical scan of a Gurbi somewhere…” she let the statement hang.

The silence was thick.

“What if… surely you have a record of your other self, the self before the transformation event, that we could make an ocular comparison to?” another Olkari suggested from out of Pidge’s field of view.

Pidge turned her head to focus on the speaker, staring at the empty space between them and herself through one of her snakes as she turned the idea over. “I’m not sure what we would be able to find, if anything. But, it is a start at least.” Spinning on her heel to face her laptop again, she brought up what little data about herself that she was able to appropriate from the castle database up on the screen. “I can send this information wirelessly to your computers.”

“Is the data compatible?”

“Given this is ripped directly from the castle ship’s files, it should be. Unless the system is so outdated… then there might be a problem.”

“We won’t know until we try,” the first Olkari responded, bringing up a holo-screen and working with several windows. “Okay, I’ve opened up a wireless communication with our database. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Alright. Here it goes.” Pidge entered a command. A file transfer window popped up, one side looked like one of the ancient brick computer models while the other side was a big question mark; apparently, her laptop had a sense of humor. What made her brow furrow though was the estimated time of completion. “Sixty-seven doboshes! Ugh!” She rammed the heels of her hands into her covered eyes, dragging her hands down her face. “Sorry guys.”

“It’s alright, Paladin Pidge. The delay is our end. When setting up for the transfer, I entered a command to convert any unsupported files as they were being received. Though I must say, I am surprised by how primitive your computer is.”

Although the Olkari couldn’t see it, Pidge narrowed her eyes and glared at them, lips pursed. “Where I come from, this is top of the line. Custom made. Not even the Garrison could match this.”

“I don’t doubt you, Paladin Pidge.” The offending Olkari leaned back a bit.

She continued undeterred. “My beauty has even been updated to interface with the castle ship database, albeit with some assistance.” she murmured that last bit, lowering her head for a mere second before snapping it back up and ranting, “But even still, the Garrison, the entirety of Earth, cannot outmatch it!”

The Olkari kept a neutral face and simply nodded.

The one that suggested the ocular scan spoke up. “While the file is transferring, perhaps we could perform the scan?”

Looking at the action window on her laptop screen, Pidge frowned and then sighed. Turning around to face the speaker, she opened her arms in invitation. “Scan away.”

“We don’t have the most appropriate equipment here, unfortunately, Paladin Pidge. You’ll need to go to the medical wing.”

Pidge let her arms go slack. “Lead the way.”

* * *

“Hm. Longitudinal progression from the initial point of impact, both dorsal and ventral,” the Olkari medic started to say, proceeding to ramble off a bunch of other vocabulary Keith could only guess the meaning of. He was about to tune the medic out when they pressed their fingers against his left side, under his arm, causing him to seethe in response. “Tender upon palpation. Paladin Keith, you should be using a support brace for an injury as severe as this.”

“Just Keith. And I was bandaged. I cut them off so I could shower.”

The medic clicked their tongue. “After the assessment, I insist you wear one for the next spicolian movement. Any other injuries?”

“I took a hit to the head.” Keith leaned forward to allow the medic to examine his head. Slowly, the Olkari carded through the thick dark hair, finding the bruise with their fingers. “How was this treated?”

“Cold compress.”

“Any signs of brain injury?”

“No.”

“Alright, we’re finished with this part. Come with me.” The medic stepped away and before Keith could follow, another Olkari, probably a technician, approached him with a folded privacy gown. “No thanks. It’s not really necessary.”

“As you wish,” they responded. Keith hurried to stand next to the lead medic who was waiting in front of a large machine. “What’s next?”

“We need an anatomical scan. Please remove your belt and lay on this table here,” they pointed to the flatbed with a pillow at one end and a gel padding on the full length of its surface. The table was on runners that allowed an overhead scanner, which was presently emitting a line of blue light behind the head of the table, move down the length of it. He had only seen one in pictures but, it looked like a space alien version of an MRI machine. Begrudgingly, he unfastened his belt. “Coran, would you hold onto this for me?”

“Of course.” The Altean knew how important the accessory and its cargo were to Keith.

Moving to the side and lifting himself up on the table, he worked the muscles in his tail, getting them to lift as much of said body part onto the surface. Unfortunately, as he knew the minute he studied the table, only about a third of him could. “His tail will need to be supported for optimal comfort,” Coran put in.

“Of course.” The medic waved three techs over; Keith was beginning to think that they were the head medic of the group. Needing not to be told, each tech picked up a section of Keith’s long tail and stood in front of the table. Another tech worked the machine. “Lay as still as possible until the scan completes. It will be slow, so please be patient.” The tech then slipped a visor over his eyes. “These will protect your vision.” Tapping at the controls again, they asked, “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be I guess.”

A loud mechanical whine indicated when the machine had been activated. The subsequential loud mechanical hum indicated that the arm was moving. With the visor on, Keith could not tell where it was. So he focused on being as still as possible, wondering if he was breathing too rapidly.

The procedure took eleven minutes to run its course. Keith was so glad to hear the whine of completion and the stronger hum of the arm returning to the top of the bed. “You can sit up if you like,” the tech told him. He gladly did, removing the visor and handing it back to them. Noticing the techs holding the rest of his tail, he asked the head medic, “Do you have to do another scan to get the rest of me?”

“I would like to go over the first one before making that decision. If it’s more comfortable for you, you can move off the table.”

“Actually, it is.” Keith guided the techs by moving his tail. They placed it as close to the side of the bed as they could and Keith quickly slid off. Coran instantly handed Keith his belt back and it was quickly buckled back around the naga’s waist.

The head medic spoke quietly for several moments with the tech who had operated the scanner before beckoning Keith over to an empty counter, sitting on a chair and activating a holo-screen. “Normally I would be doing several more tests but, we’ll start slowly to be as thorough as possible.” They started tapping on the holo-keyboard. With Coran standing next to and slightly behind him for support, Keith felt ready to answer what he knew was going to be an onslaught of questions.

“How do you feel your overall health is?”

“Not what it’s supposed to be.”

“Are you drinking enough?”

“I think so.”

“How is your waste elimination?”

“I… uh… haven’t passed anything yet.”

“Not even liquids?”

“No.”

“Do you have a blockage?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Interesting. How long ago was the change?”

“Six quintents ago.”

“And you have eaten since then?”

“Yes. And unfortunately thrown most of it back up.”

“So there’s a change in your dietary tolerances?”

“Yes.”

The lead medic was about to ask another question but Keith interrupted them. “Can I say something?” The medic nodded. “I think my overall health has to do with my body temperature. I noticed that I felt different yesterday after laying in the sun for a few vargas. I felt better; more energetic. Since the change, I have been on the castle ship for the majority of the time and have been mostly cold.”

“Interesting.” There were several moments of quiet as the lead medic tapped away. “This requires more information.”

“More tests?”

“I’ll need some blood for examination. But what is needed mostly will be gotten through simple monitoring. Your person will be outfitted with a series of sensors that will be attached to a mobile power pack and data recording device. You will have to wear it for the next 52 vargas so we can get adequate data. Do not deter from your normal routine. Though, given the extent of your injury, I recommend no strenuous physical activity if you can avoid it.”

That didn’t sound too bad, Keith thought. Boring, but not bad.

“You will also need to document what you eat and drink and when you consume it as well as when you sleep and when you wake.”

“Simple enough.”

“Good.” Closing the holo-screen, the head medic stood. “I’ll need some time to go over your scan. Meanwhile, my assistants will get you set up with the necessary equipment.”

The atmosphere in the room was interrupted by the sound of the two large doors opening, admitting two more people into the room. 

“Pidge?”

“Hi.”

“What are you here for?” the naga asked, flummoxed.

“To make use of some medical equipment. Apparently, the engineers don’t have the proper machinery to take anatomical scans.”

Keith thought for a moment, finger around his chin. “You’re having your eyes scanned?”

“Nailed it.”

“Do you know what you’re looking for?” Keith let his arm go slack.

“Not in detail. Hopefully, something that will help determine how to construct a visor so I can stop wearing this blindfold. We’re going to compare my current eyes to the anatomy of my human eyes to see if there are any discrepancies. When I bluntly stated I didn’t want to kill anyone just to figure out how this ‘petrification stare’ works, one of the engineers suggested comparing anatomy.”

“I see.” Keith changed his focus from her to the Olkari next to her. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“What about you?” Pidge asked, stepping forward.

“I’m about to be outfitted with some sort type of space electrodes that I have to wear for two quintents.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Actually it sounds boring.”

Pidge waved him off. “Tell me the details later. There’s work to be done.” Addressing the room, she asked, “Which one of you can do the anatomical scan that I need?”

The lead medic looked from her to Coran - who folded his arms behind his back - to Keith, who just shrugged, hands up at shoulder level. “Pidge is Pidge,” was all he could say in explanation.

* * *

Hunk wasn’t aware of the moment Lance woke up; it couldn’t have been more than 90 minutes from when he returned. He heard his friend shifting on the pillows and thought that it was just to find a comfortable spot again. And then Lance said mournfully, “I miss having toes.”

Startled enough to draw a deviant line on his sketch, Hunk looked up from the drawing to answer. “That’s out of the blue.”

“Toes are so underappreciated.”

“Why do you miss having toes?”

“I miss squishing stuff between them, you know. Soft stuff like microfleece. Wet stuff like mud. I miss digging in the sand with them, watching my niece paint the nails on them. Heck, I even miss shoving them in Finely’s face to annoy him.”

“I don’t think much about my toes until I clip a corner of a desk or some furniture with a bare foot that is.” Hunk placed his sketchbook and pen on the foot table, standing and approaching the service cart.

Both of them heard the loud groaning that Lance’s horse belly made.

“Here, sit up. You need to drink some water,” the troll instructed, pouring some into a mug.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance replied, working himself so that he was upright. After Hunk stepped over and handed him the mug, he sadly looked at the clear contents. “I miss my slippers.”

Hunk let him drink for a moment. “Maybe there’s something else that will work in their place?”

“Like what?” he asked, looking up at his friend.

Hunk hummed in thought. “Socks. What if we found you some Blue Lion socks?”

Lance opened his mouth to answer only to be interrupted by a really unwanted urgent sensation within his body. He shoved his mug in Hunk’s direction, scrambling to stand up. “Quick, take this. I have to go and I have to go now!” Unfortunately, the troll wasn’t fast enough to take the mug before Lance had dropped it and raced for the other room inadvertently slamming the door shut.

* * *

When the techs were finally done fussing over him, Keith squirmed slightly. He had been dressed in a tight black vestiture that had many electrodes - or their alien equivalent - positioned on his chest, his arms, at least one on his neck, his back and a few below his hips where he supposed they would have been on his thighs had he still had them. The arms of the garment were a bit long on him so bunched up along his forearms. The head medic assured him that it wouldn’t interfere with the readings. Attached to the side of his belt, between his knife and cargo pouch, was a black box about thirteen by ten by ten centimeters; this was the computer that would collect the data. Lastly, a beige brace was wrapped firmly around his chest, its width covering about 70% of his ribcage. It took several minutes to become accustomed to it and breathe normally.

He instantly hated the brace.

The look Coran gave him deterred him from taking it off though. And he was sure the Altean would know if he ever did when out of sight.

One tech was standing next to him, working with a holo-screen, making final adjustments to the box at his hip. “Alright, everything is all set. Remember, you need to wear this for 52 vargas and don’t do anything physically strenuous; you need to allow your injury time to heal.”

“Right,” Keith acknowledged as he shrugged back into his jacket; his shirt wouldn’t fit over everything else so he held it in his left hand for the time being.

The head medic offered his hand. “You are free to go. I do suggest finding a good meal sometime soon.”

“I’ll do that,” he answered, grasping the Olkari’s forearm with his right hand as he had seen Shiro do with Ryner. With the way the Olkari were feeding him, however, he resigned himself to go back to the castleship and eat whatever meat had been put in the fridge, not caring if it was raw. He could cook for himself, just not as well as Hunk.

He also wanted to go back to his nap. It was a strange feeling, wanting to rest and be idle instead of feeling the restlessness that was usually burned away by training or some other activity that he could absorb himself in. It was still there, though dim in comparison, surfacing when he actually had the energy to spare and not trudging around in lethargy.

Well, food first.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Coran trying to get his attention until the mustached Altean’s hand was on his shoulder. “Keith, are you alright?”

The naga jumped a little but nodded. “Yeah, just thinking of going back to the castleship. I suspect that the Olkari are a vegetarian race.”

“No need to go that far. Though with some reluctance, they did agree to butcher that third beast for us. Why don’t you and I go check up on their progress and see about getting you something you can actually keep down.”

Keith smiled faintly. “Sure.”

“Shiro requested that I bring you to the “R&D” as he called it, after your exam. However, he left it up to you to decide when, if at all. He insists you get your rest, but he’s also aware that the Olkari need your presence on site to allow them to take measurements and collect data as well as get your input about possible designs.”

“I would like something to eat first. Shiro will understand.” He looked over his shoulder towards his teammate who was hovering near the tech who operated the space MRI. “Pidge!”

She didn’t turn but three snakes focused on him. “Yeah?”

“Hungry?”

“Depends. What’s cooking?”

“Lance calls it a pig. Whatever it is, it’s meat. Coran is taking me to where it’s being butchered.”

Pidge checked her phone; only seventeen doboshes had passed. Not only that, the tech was in the middle of telling her that another lead medic would need to analyze and compare her recent scan with her human one since the engineers weren’t versed in highly detailed anatomical biology. Sighing, her stomach churned, demanding something solid. Given there wasn’t much else for her to do, she made her decision. “Yeah, I’m hungry.” She quickly caught up with them just before they left out the large doors.

* * *

Lance exited the bathroom several minutes later; he had a pained expression on his face. “Forget DEFCON 3, I just hit DEFCON 2 for the first time in my life. And it had better be the last.” Showing subtle signs of abdominal distress in his horse half as he walked, he returned to his pile of pillows and gently laid belly down, back legs out to the side. Hunk handed Lance his mug back, refilled to half capacity. “So…” he left the question open.

Accepting the mug and swallowing a mouthful, Lance answered quietly as he stared out the window, “Ever seen one of those firework fountains? Mix that with a Roman Candle.”

The troll grimaced. “How are you holding up?”

“As well as expected, I think, after experiencing something like that.” Lance swallowed another mouthful. “Thanks again for tying up my tail. I shudder to think what would have happened otherwise. And I think the Japanese are on to something with their toilet designs. Do you think space aliens inspired them in some way?”

“I’m still not used to using those. And you’re welcome. Do you feel like eating something? I picked up what I think is the Olkari equivalent of rice balls. They should be bland enough not to upset your stomach any more than it already is.”

The centaur drank the rest of his water, turning to face the troll as he handed the mug back. “Not right now. Though not as painful, my stomach is still cramping. Even with just water, it’s still complaining.”

Hunk took the mug and set it back on the cart while Lance laid back down on the pillows. The troll reclaimed his spot on the couch and resumed his doodling. For several minutes there was an amicable silence. And then, even though his eyes were closed, Lance thought out loud, “What if I had transformed into a deer centaur? Would I have antlers?”

Not looking up, Hunk replied, “If you did, you really wouldn't be able to fit in Blue’s cockpit. Antlers would add an extra foot or more to your height.”

“Still, I wonder how I would look. Do you think I would look cool?”

“I personally think you would look silly.”

Lance made a ‘harumph’ noise, eyes still closed as he rubbed his cheek into his pillow looking for a comfortable spot.

“Go back to sleep. You need it,” Hunk insisted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to extend a MASSIVE apology for the wait for this chapter. Rather than ramble and go into a long explanation, I'll keep it short.
> 
> My health took a nose-dive in March and I still haven't recovered - I went into some detail on my [tumblr blog](http://bucketoffudgeinamuffin.tumblr.com) if you want to check it out.
> 
> As consequence, the energy I used to spend on hobbies like this fic ended up being needed just to get through each day, one day at a time.
> 
> I am seeking treatment. Unfortunately, because real life sucks, I have to wait longer than I would like to.
> 
> Also, THANK YOU IMMENSELY for all the hits that continued to roll in. They let me know that readers still like this story, still come back for more, and I'm sorry for those who came looking for an update and didn't find one until now.
> 
>  
> 
>  ~~I hate to do this, but "Why it sucks to be a snake in space" is going on hiatus. I don't intend to abandon this fic, it is just going to take a long long time to get back to where I can confidently and regularly work on this again.~~ Why it sucks to be a snake in space is back!


	20. Adventures in Research and Such

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Lance recovers, the other paladins are kept busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What?  
> Do you your eyes deceive you?  
> NO!  
> There is a chapter update!
> 
> This chapter is not betaed. (and probably full of errors and inconsistencies)

The Altean advisor, with the assistance of an Olkari chauffeur, led Keith and Pidge to what appeared to be a culinary industry of sorts. It had never occured to either of the two that the Olkari were a race that practiced mass produced foodstuffs. They must have been lost in common thought because Coran was clearing his throat to get their attention. “This way,” he waved, beckoning them.

He led them inside the rather indistinct building, spoke quick words to an employee there who took over the job of guiding them. “We just finished processing your request. We were about to have it delivered back to your ship when you arrived.”

“Very good. Once these two have taken their fill, I’ll see to it that the remainder gets to its destination,” Coran responded.

They were led down the public access parts of the building; basically hallways with locked doors labeled in Olkari script. Keith could easily guess that the writing said something along the lines of “Employees Only” or some other warning because, what else would it be? The one room that the were allowed to enter though had the distinct look of a mass restaurant kitchen setup. On one of the four long stainless steel countertops were a more than a few paper wrapped packages of various cuts of meat. There was even a package that contained what Pidge guessed was edible organs. Remembering that the gurbi, the race that she most resembled, ritualistically ate organs, made her queasy. Back home, she was never one for liver and wasn’t about to start now.

Keith was the first to approach, tying his jacket around his waist before unfolding one and appreciating the meticulousness of the different cuts in a way likely similar to a professional chef. For a race that appeared to be vegetarian, they knew about the fineness of butchering and his dad had taught him how to appreciate that artistry even though he wasn’t that versed on how to fully utilize each cut to its potential. His stomach growled quietly at the beautiful sight and he was sure that if he could, he would be salivating heavily. As it was, he apparently only salivated just enough to swallow food and he guessed his salivary glands were more towards the back rather than the front of his mouth; ergo, no drooling.

“Pidge, what are you in the mood for?” he asked, moving over to examine the contents of another package.

“What can you cook that is quick? While we both could probably eat it raw and get away with it, I’m not keen on that concept.”

“How does steak sound?”

“Medium rare?”

“The only way to cook it,” Keith smiled, showing a bit of fang.

“I’m sold!” Pidge laughed. She walked up to the counter to stand next to him, looking over the meat selection. “I have no idea what I’m looking at. Is this even a cow?” The flesh was pink borderlining on lavender.

Keith shook his head as he reached passed Pidge for another package to look at, finding a stack of meat cuts that looked promising enough to make several steaks out of. “Lance called it a pig. Let’s leave it at that.”

“I hope that whatever it was, it tastes like cow.”

“You’ll have to tell me if it does. I can’t taste anything really.”

“Oh yeah,” Pidge winced, rubbing the back of her head as Keith rewrapped and lifted the stack, securing it in his grip. “This will be plenty, Coran.”

The Altean didn’t even bat an eye at the amount of meat Keith was holding. The Olkari accompanying them, however, looked a bit off color.

Either not noticing it or dismissing it, Keith asked, “Is there a grill or some other cooking appliance I can borrow for a bit?”

At least the Olkari understood what a grill was. There was such a thing as grilled vegetables after all. “Yes,” they nodded. “But not here. Not available for private use that is.” With a gesture, they beckoned the group to follow them back out. As the group walked, with the Olkari notably walking further ahead of them than before, they spoke, “You will need to go to a public event location to make use of cooking appliances that are not strictly for personal or home use. I am sure that your request will be accommodated without any trouble.”

“So, we could go back to the inn and ask to borrow their kitchen?” Pidge inquired, an eyebrow peeking out from her blindfold.

“Makes sense to me,” Keith commented, then added, “I wonder if they have an outdoor grill.”

The Olkari did not comment.

As the three climbed back into the vehicle that had brought them, the guide was quietly celebrating their departure. If the chauffeur even saw or knew what the wrapped package in the Red Paladin’s hands, there was no visible indication. The trip back to the inn was quiet, Keith going over what few techniques he knew when cooking steak, not that he could taste seasoning, but he wanted to make something Pidge would thoroughly enjoy.

And maybe show off a little. 

Coran didn’t exit the vehicle with them when they arrived back at the inn. “I have a few matters to check into. Once you two have finished your meal I’m sure the medics will have processed your scans and you can continue your work, Pidge. I will do my best to come get you before then.”

“Catch you later then, Coran,” Pidge waved.

The concierge gave them a questioning look when they entered. The expression changed to one of intrigue when Pidge requested use of the inn’s kitchen. They inquired the purpose to which Pidge simply said, “Keith and I would like to do some cooking of our own while we wait for some other work to be done.” She didn’t feel that telling them about his and her special dietary needs was relevant; that information needed to be told to a chef and she intended to do so once they reached the kitchen. The concierge nodded, acting as if they had been told the weather, and buzzed someone.

The Olkari that came to get them was dressed similarly to what a chef’s assistant -called a line cook- would look like back home. They asked the same question, looking at what that naga was holding while simultaneously commenting that the request was unusual but they were sure that the head chef wouldn’t protest accommodating such esteemed guests.

The kitchen was massive. Though, Keith thought, it was to be expected; an inn wasn’t unlike the Garrison and it’s high concentration of growing teenagers. Given the hour, it was busy. Sounds of chopping and workers calling out instructions, confirmations and warnings hit the paladins’ senses with an unexpected fervor. Their guide indicated that they should wait at the entrance so as to not be an obstruction in the organized chaos. They didn’t wait long for the one they inferred to be the head chef approached them. There wasn’t anything distinguishing them from the line workers other than the way they carried themself.

“Hi. Can we borrow a part of your kitchen?” Pidge immediately asked before the chef could inquire.

“You have picked an unfavorable time to make such a request, Paladins of Voltron. Were it the slow period I would have no qualms. However, such a presence as yourself, Red Paladin, would be a great obstruction in the flow of the work being done. I mean no offense.”

“None taken,” Keith answered. He knew he was big and had accepted it some time ago. “Do you have an area outside that might work? A wood grill or something? I can easily make due with that.”

The chef nodded. “There is a small setup attached to the kitchen that is mainly used for smoking foods and such. It is in a space that you will not be a hindrance. Though I will require that should you need anything, please send the Green Paladin for it. She is less likely to be an interruption.”

“I understand; I’ll stay out of the way as much as possible,” Keith answered.

The chef nodded. “Then follow me.”

They were led to a room that looked like a giant walk-in closet fit for the filthy rich or maybe royalty. There were three large fume hoods over three different appliances and a deep basin sink in one of the corners; the appliance that Keith wanted appeared to be an electric version of a three-burner propane grill, just without the burners.

Eh, he shrugged slightly, he could work with it.

Hanging on pegs to the right of the grill were common tools used in grilling. All that was left that Pidge needed to get was a serving plate and seasoning. Though being on an alien planet, Keith was not sure what the alien equivalent was to the seasoning he wanted to ask for. The chef had left before the predicament occurred to him. “Pidge, I need a serving plate to put the cooked steaks on. And while you’re getting that, see if you can round up some butter. And salt and pepper. I’m not confident enough to mess around with foreign spices like Hunk is.” He put the package down on the workbench next to the grill. “If you can find something that smells like it, get some garlic too.”

“Garlic on steak?”

“It’s good, trust me.”

“Be back in a tick.”

Keith nodded without looking at her. He familiarized himself with the grill, finding a scented wood inside the appliance, planned his course of action, and turned it on. He was surprised at how fast it heated up. Pidge stepped up beside him and nudged him to get his attention. In one of her hands were two small, half full ramekins; one contained a white substance -likely salt- and the other was red and pink -probably pepper-. Her other hand was grasping a plate of something green. “They didn’t have anything like garlic, or butter butter, but of course they have margarine.” Under her arm was the plate.

Keith rolled his eyes; of course Olkari wouldn’t have real butter, it was an animal derivative. “I’ll make due. It probably won’t taste as good though.”

“Eh, I’m hungry enough that I most likely won’t care,” Pidge shrugged as she carefully handed over the ingredients and then set the plate down on the other side of the grill.

Keith immediately got busy, his thoughts drifting back to when his dad was teaching him and then to the first time he cooked steaks himself, with supervision of course. Pidge observed quietly, at first noticing how frequently Keith’s tongue flicked in and out of his mouth as he worked before deciding that it was unimportant and watching his hands and the job they were doing instead.

When he was done, he had cooked seven very impressive alien steaks of slightly various sizes, complete with criss-cross grill lines. “We can eat these in my room. Go grab some dinnerware while I clean up. I doubt the Olkari want to contaminate their food with meat drippings.”

Pidge chuckled at that. “I’ll wait for you at the entrance,” she said as she turned on her heel and left. Keith cleaned more immaculately than he normally would have back on Earth out of consideration for his hosts and their generosity. He wasn’t about to go as far as sterilizing the appliance, feeling that that was a bit of overkill. Only when he was satisfied did he leave the room and carefully weave his way around the workers with lots of ‘excuse me’s and their like before reaching Pidge with the plate of covered steaks in his hands.

At one of the line cooks insistence, Pidge had a serving cart with the necessary dinnerware, mugs and two pitchers; one filled with some sort of fruit punch and the other filled with ice water. Both her and Keith wrinkled their noses at the punch and then simultaneously laughed while making their way to the elevators.

* * *

A very appetizing smell caught Hunk’s attention. He snapped his head up from his doodle and closed his eyes, attempting to zero in on what he was smelling and give it an identity. Moments later he determined that it was grilled meat, cooked in something that was fatty and with a hint of pepper and the slight smell of hickory.

Lance caught a whiff of it and groaned. “Really? I mean really!?”

Hunk furrowed his brow in sympathy. “You going to be sick?”

“No,” Lance huffed, sitting up to glare at the wall separating his room from his teammate’s. “Keith is eating something that smells insanely delicious and I want some but I can’t eat it right now! My mouth wants it something fierce but if I even taste it I’ll be regretting it.” Huffing again and folding his arms, still glaring, he added, “And who knew the hot-head could cook?! I mean, there is no way the Olkari cooked whatever that is.”

“Calm down Lance. I’ll make you something when your better,” Hunk promised. Getting up, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

Blowing raspberries in frustration, Lance mumbled, “Yeah, I guess.” He moved over to the front of the couch and plopped belly down against it while Hunk made himself busy. He first handed Lance a mug full of water which the centaur gulped down before accepting a space riceball, biting into it with some misplaced irritation. He was shocked to find a mild citrus flavor teasing his tongue. “I thought you said these were bland?” he remarked after swallowing; his mama would be smacking him upside the head for talking with his mouth full. Even though he was in space light years away from her, he wasn’t about to slip into the bad habit.

Hunk looked surprised. “I figured they were. That’s what I was told when I asked the employee at the quick mart downstairs.”

“Olkari bland is definitely not human bland,” Lance replied, taking a smaller bite and praying his stomach wouldn’t rebell. When he finished, Hunk offered him a second which the centaur turned away with a push. “Not now. I want to make sure I don’t throw up what I just ate.”

“Okay. You want to sleep more or do something else?”

Lance tilted his head in thought, his arms folded, his tied tail thumping against the couch. “You still have any local play games on your phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think they’ll work in here?”

“One way to find out,” Hunk grinned. He fished his phone from his pocket while Lance retrieved his from the bed. Both made themselves comfortable -for Lance that meant moving the pillows over to the floor in front of the couch- and experimented.

* * *

Keith felt full, maybe a bit on the stuffed side. And it was a glorious feeling. Totally not caring, he had his arms folded on the table and was resting his chin on them without a care in the universe, letting his tongue flick in and out randomly, enjoying the weight in his belly. After Pidge insisted that she only wanted two steaks, he had eaten the other five with ease. Pidge similarly had her elbows on the table, supporting her head as she played with her fork in her mouth, equally content.

The phone in her pocket beeped.

As she pulled it out to check it, Keith asked, “Was it good?”

She nodded, fork still in her mouth. Using her teeth to hold it in place, she spoke around it. “Didn’t taste like steaks from home, but it was close enough and so worth it.” Putting her phone away, she grabbed the fork with her hand, continuing to play with it using her fingers instead. “Where did you learn to cook? Those steaks were perfect!”

He had a soft, reflective smile on his face, his eyes drooping. “My dad taught me.”

“He was a good teacher and you are an excellent student,” she praised. “The medics should have the results from my scan ready. Want to come with me? I’m headed to R&D right after and Coran did say that Shiro was there waiting for you.”

“Sure.” He sat up and looked over the foot table they had used. “What should w-”

“We’ll set it back on the serving cart and leave it outside in the hall,” Pidge answered, getting to her feet. He rose and helped collect dishes.

The pitcher of fruit punch was never touched by either of them.

They made their way to the lobby and inquired about Coran; the man had yet to make an appearance since he had left that morning. So they had a ride called instead.

* * *

“We had a team of four medics look over your ocular scans, Miss Paladin -”

“Pidge.”

“Pidge, and have unanimously determined that there is no significant difference between your present anatomy and past anatomy. Therefore, we have concluded that your hypothesis of having a ‘death glare’ is unwarranted.”

“I’m still not taking the risk. I want a visor or goggles or even some polarized safety glasses if it comes to that.”

The Olkari medic sighed. “As you wish. Your information has been sent over to the engineers you’ve been working with. Also, here is a copy for your own records.” They handed her a small chip.

“Okay then. That’s where I’m headed. Coming, Keith?” she spun on her heel and was about to set foot out the door when she was interrupted. “A moment, if you would,” the Olkari pleaded.

Pidge sighed, annoyed. “Yes?” she answered, looking at the medic with two snakes.

“I highly suggest that you get a comprehensive medical scan. In fact, I suggest that your entire team each have one performed.”

“I’ll pass the word along. Right now I really need to get back to work.” Moving her snakes so all were looking at the naga, she beckoned, “Come on, Keith. I know the way back. It’s a bit of a walk but I imagine you’re getting tired of cramming yourself into small cars and whatnot.”

Keith grinned at that and fell into step behind her.

* * *

“I’m going back to the Engineer’s department that I’m currently working in,” Pidge said as they entered the massive building through sliding doors. “Shiro is likely in the Research department. I suggest waiting for someone to guide you, this place is a maze.”

“Seems like all the buildings on Olkarion are mazes,” Keith commented, looking around and letting his tongue do its thing.

Pidge continued to walk, Keith absentmindedly following her. “Uh, where are you going?”

Keith snapped to, looking forward with a confused expression. “I… don’t know.”

She grinned, laughing a bit. “One of the engineers could probably spare a few minutes to take you to Research.”

Pidge was welcomed back by the group, At her request, one of them eagerly stepped forward, leading the naga down more hallways to a section of the building that was designed differently to a slight degree. It smell-tasted different too; there wasn’t an odor of lubricants and metal. Instead there was semi-stagnant air and chemical cleaner. His guide stepped up to a large set of sliding doors which opened automatically with a hiss and a draft of air. Keith immediately identified Shiro’s scent before even sighting the half-dragon. The Olkari didn’t step in, but with a gesture of their arm, invited the naga to enter. “Thanks,” he responded quietly.

He was immediately dumbfounded by the scene in front of him.

“Shiro?”

The half-dragon, who had been focusing on the smaller Olkari standing in front of him, looked up with a stoic expression which swiftly slid onto one of slight embarrassment. “Hey there.”

The naga moved forward, taking in the ridiculous status of his friend, brother figure and team leader.

The half-dragon standing in the off center of the room was covered from head to toe with white plastic balls, the big ones were similar to the size of golf balls, and the small ones about a third of that size, each secured to his body with black tape. He had them on his head, his horns, his wings, chest, arms, legs, hands, feet, tail… everywhere there was a major or minor joint. “What… is all this?”

“Black Paladin, if you would please step in front of the blue screen again,” someone instructed. Shiro waved Keith closer as he complied. In front of the screen, he faced what appeared to be three go pro cameras mounted on tripods that were positioned at four o’clock, six o’clock and eight o’clock. Standing still, wings relaxed behind him, he started to explain. “I’ve been working with the Olkari here for the last three vargas or so, helping them collect data to aid the engineers in the construction of functional armor. We’ve done several methods of measurements but these guys are perfectionists. I’m essentially doing motion-capture now.”

“Red Paladin, please, if you wish to stay and observe, stay behind this yellow line,” someone interjected. Keith hadn’t realized how close he had gotten. He scooted back to where he was instructed to be, his tail bunching up as consequence, and looked back up at Shiro with a passive expression.

“We’re ready to start whenever you are,” another Olkari said.

Shiro gave Keith a stern glare, “None of this gets back to Matt or Commander Holt when we find them.”

Keith folded his arms, tilted his head and gave a devilish grin. “Just who do you think I am, Shiro?”

“Keeiitthh,” Shiro dragged his name out in warning, glaring for only a second in his direction before focusing on the Olkari running the recording program.

“Alright. First, move your right arm in a circle and then let it relax at your side. Repeat the gesture with your left arm.”

And so the process continued. Keith watched silently, a slight grin appearing on his face from time to time, sometimes caught by Shiro, most of the time not. At one point a treadmill was brought over on which the half-dragon walked, jogged and eventually sprinted. Neither knew how much time the recording had taken, regardless, when it was announced that the task was complete, Shiro’s shoulders noticeably sagged; he was tired.

“You did fantastic, Black Paladin. Now, please be patient with us as we remove the markers.”

Shiro had to crouch down for them to remove the ones on his upper chest, shoulders, wings, and head.

Keith moved forward moments after Shiro was cleared of all the markers. He chuckled, “Matt would love to hear about some of those dance moves you just did.” Pausing for effect, he gave a small smile. “But, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Dang straight you won’t!” Shiro laughed, shoving Keith lightly. “What’s with the brace?”

“So you noticed.”

“Hard not to.”

“I was told that I had to wear it… that I should have been wearing one since the injury.”

“I see. And the body suit?”

“Long-term monitoring. Not sure what the medics are looking for. I have to wear it for two quintants.”

They were heading out the door as they talked when someone called out. “Wait, please. Since you are here, Red Paladin, please consider letting us collect data from you at this time.”

Keith raised his eyebrows. “My armor won’t need to be changed that much. Is that absolutely necessary?”

“For optimal performance and protection, we have planned to collect data from all the Paladins.”

“Oh. If you insist.”

“Don’t worry yourself. Your session won’t be nearly as extensive as your leader’s. We will mostly need to focus on your lower section as that will be most challenging to cover and yet allow you maximum freedom of movement.”

Keith nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

“Excellent. First, we’ll need to place the markers and then it will basically be a similar process as your leader demonstrated.”

“Okay.”

Shiro grinned, folding his arms. “You keep my secret, I’ll keep yours.”

“I already told you I wouldn’t tell,” he repeated, folding his arms in turn.

“Consider it a security investment.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “By the way,” he began as he moved away, “the medics want you to get scanned.” He looked over his shoulder to see the half-dragon’s reaction, pretty sure he already knew what it would be.

Shiro frowned, his eyes narrow, thoroughly unimpressed.

Keith chuffed a light laugh before facing forward again.

* * *

After Keith’s session with the motion-capture -they had him slither on a slick surface of which he could not gain accurate purchase on since the treadmill was too small- the two returned to the medical building for Shiro’s turn for a scan after much coaxing and reassurances. His size shocked everyone in the room and there was a lengthy discussion about how to best run the test.

It was determined that the medical team would need to take multiple scans, each with Shiro resting in a different position. The main ones were on his back with his wings tucked tightly underneath him -the most uncomfortable one which was why it was the first- on his stomach, and then one on each side with his wings tucked behind him. Slight variations were also done in order to get clearer images of certain zones of his large body. Unfortunately, the time it took to complete each scan was longer than Keith’s initial one and though Shiro was patient, the environment was getting to him. Keith had to constantly reassure him that he wasn’t a Galra prisoner being experimented on, making sure that he was as close to him as the Olkari would allow while they ran their machine. And if Shiro needed a moment or two, or even more, they let him have them.

He silently begged Keith to take him out of there as soon as the scans were done. The threat of flashbacks was high, to the degree that the half-dragon was having difficulty speaking and focusing.

Keith, with a light touch on the half-dragon’s left forearm, guided him to a nearby garden, finding it by both sight and smell taste. It was vacant and shaded, the perfect place to unwind.

“Shift. Relax. I’ll be here.”

Shiro nodded, hesitantly and cautiously walking into the center of a wide, open grass lawn before quickly shifting and curling up into as tight of a ball as he could manage, wanting to be as small as possible. The cold temperature he emanated wafted over to Keith who shivered slightly; this was the coldest Shiro had ever been since the transformation. Ice was even forming on the blades closest to the dragon. Though he wanted to be close to his brother figure, he knew that if he got too close, he would end up falling asleep and he didn’t want that. He wanted to be awake and vigilant, ready to intervene if Shiro did slip into a flashback.

Small beams of sunlight broke through the canopy. Keith picked an area where several were clustered in one area and coiled up, resting on his tail. His tongue flicked in and out regularly, searching for shifts in Shiro’s scent. It wasn’t immediate, it wasn’t quick, but a bit longer than eventually, the dragon drifted off into a doze, his long breaths deep and even; true sleep was rare for the former prisoner of war.

* * *

“Feeling well enough to eat more?” Hunk asked Lance after the centaur creamed him in another game of kart racing.

“Yeah. I’ll eat the rest of those rice things.”

Hunk passed them over. As Lance ate, Hunk reported, “I need to get you more water. And something for myself. But, you want anything more? Any other bland things?”

Lance thought, tilting his head while he picked some grains of rice off his cheek. “Potatoes. The Olkari have got to have something like potatoes.” Finishing off one of the rice balls, he questioned, “Why don’t you just use room service?”

“It’s easier and quicker to go directly to the kitchen. And I think describing potatoes to the chef personally is better than down the vine which by the time it gets to the chef would be changed into something totally different.” Hunk left the mugs on the foot table. “Besides, the staff in there are accommodating to a small degree. Being a defender of the universe has its perks.”

“You’ll make a friend with any kitchen, buddy,” Lance laughed.

Hunk laughed in return. “Not all of them. Just the ones that look inviting.” He pushed the cart towards the door, thumbing the panel to open it. “I’ll be back soon.”

Lance waved him away with one hand, his other holding the rest of the rice balls. “Take as long as you need, I’ll be fine.”

* * *

Time passed quickly, as it tends to do when a person is occupied. Pidge was often angry with time, especially when she was working and coming close to a breakthrough. Her teammates in the lab though, insisted and even persisted that she take regular breaks. It was at the beginning of one such break when a Research representative came calling, requesting her presence for a while.

“But, I’m working!” she vehemently protested.

“Pidge, currently there is nothing to do but wait while analyses and algorithms are running. There is nothing to do but wait. We understand the need for you to find your family, everyone here does, but hyperfocusing on one subject is not healthy.”

“The Black and Red Paladins have already participated in our tests. It is imperative that we are as accurate as possible because your safety is at stake every time you enter battle.”

Pidge slumped her shoulders. “You’re not wrong there. Fine, I’ll come. I hope this data collecting of yours is fast.”

“We will proceed as quickly as possible without sacrificing accuracy, I assure you.”

She followed them to Research and after seeing the motion-capture setup, grinned. “Okay, maybe this won’t be so bad.”

* * *

Coran was the one to come collect everyone that evening. Hunk, Lance, and Pidge were easy. Tracking down Keith and Shiro was a bit tricky. Locals had seen the naga and the half-dragon enter a public garden, but no one knew where the Black Paladin had gone since, not understanding that the large beast in the company of the naga and the half-dragon were one and the same. Coran decided that it wasn’t his place to clarify the confusion; that was something Shiro would have to determine on his own.

Dinner was more aptly appropriate for everyone; both Hunk and Pidge had made sure the kitchen staff knew of the dietary needs of two of their teammates. Hunk himself assisted with cooking some meat that had been withheld from the castleship delivery by Coran since no one had an inkling of an idea how to prepare it.

Everyone was ecstatic to see Lance at the table again, the meal being served indoors in consideration of Hunk. He still wasn’t fully recovered but felt well enough to join everyone.

“How are you feeling?” Allura quickly asked as everyone seated themselves.

“Much better. I’m sorry I worried everyone. It’s not really a big deal, just something I’ve had to deal with since I was a kid.”

“Why did you describe yourself as ‘unfavorable company’ if I may ask?”

“That is not a topic to be discussed around food or something I want to discuss with anyone unless absolutely necessary.”

The other three paladins instantly had sympathetic expressions on their faces while Coran and Allura had perplexed ones.

It was quiet while they were served. Keith and Pidge, after their earlier experience with Olkari around meat, curiously watched the servers from their peripheral vision. The Olkari acted as though they were clueless about what they were serving which kind of disappointed Pidge.

“So, what did we miss?” Hunk asked after they dug in.

“Research wants you and Lance to come in tomorrow for measurements and whatnot. Keith, Pidge and I have already been there,” Shiro answered.

“What I want to know is where did you learn how to cook, Keith,” Lance asked, rudely pointing his fork at the naga in question.

“What gave you the idea that I can’t cook for myself?”

“I mean cook like Hunk.”

“There are different ways of cooking?”

“YES!”

Keith had that confused look of his answer Lance.

Hunk interjected. “I’ll try to explain. There’s a rudimentary level of cooking which is basically cooking premade or packaged foods. Then there’s home cooking or cooking meals from individual ingredients, often called cooking from scratch. And then there’s gourmet cooking, a skill that most people go to school or take up an apprenticeship for and takes several years of study to perfect.”

Keith nodded. “My dad taught me,” was all he said to answer Lance. To make a point that he wouldn’t say any more on the matter, he went back to eating.

Sulking, Lance returned to his meal. Hunk had requested that the chef make something light on flavor and simple nutrients for Lance, not explaining in detail why.

For several minutes there was an amicable silence in the room. Coran then spoke, “Hunk, I’ve talked with Fima and Namh since they inquired about your absence. They have made miniature models of your modification ideas and are eager for your input.”

“That’s great news! I was afraid they wouldn’t do anything without me there. I’ll be sure to meet up with them tomorrow as soon as possible,” Hunk replied.

“Ryner informed me that Slav and a small team of Blades are en route and will be here in three quintents. Pidge, you were inquiring of his whereabouts and so I figured that you would like to know and Keith, since the Blades are involved, I figured you would like to know as well.”

Keith nodded.

“Thanks, Allura. There is so much I want to ask his opinion about,” Pidge replied.

“He could also be of great assistance in the construction of new armor for you all,” Coran put in. “After all, he expanded upon the initial design of the large teladuv we used in our ultimate attack on Zarkon. Imagine what he can do to help you five!”

“We get it, Coran,” Shiro stressed, his eyebrow twitching.

“How about we change topics to something fun and not work related?” Lance suggested. “Like, what is there for R&R here on Olkarion? We can’t always be working. Hunk and Pidge are the designers here and the rest of us aren’t going to be needed all the time. There’s got to be something we can do to entertain ourselves.”

“Is there any wild game?” Keith asked.

“I believe the lead medic instructed you to not do anything physically intensive, Number 4,” Coran replied.

“Setting snares isn’t physically intensive.”

“I’m sure there are lesser beasts in the forests that you can hunt for, Keith. Best not let too many Olkari know what you are doing though,” Allura pressed.

“Understood.”

“That sounds boring,” Lance commented.

“You don’t have to come.”

“I won’t!”

“Mind if I join you, Keith?” Shiro asked.

“Sure.”

“What?! What are you going to do?”

“Enjoy the quiet.”

“You, hot-head, sitting still?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“Keith isn’t always moving, Lance. You know that.”

“So shut up.”

“I take offense to that.”

“Paladins, please,” Allura begged. “Can this intense discussion wait until after we’ve finished eating?”

“That’s a different way to put arguing,” Pidge mumbled around her fork.

Conversation proceeded more civilly, though Keith didn’t contribute much unless directly asked something.

After dinner, he retreated to the roof to bask. Lance decided to go for a jog in the park close to the inn. Hunk and Pidge remained at the table to discuss personal projects and Shiro accompanied Allura on the balcony to go over what she had discussed with Ryner. Coran excused himself to attend to ‘personal matters’ which he would not divulge further detail.

When the night began to fall, sleep came to claim them with haste, their exhaustion great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Keith's dad teaching him how to cook a steak was inspired by that comic going around the internet.
> 
> Thank you everyone for your patience with me. Thank you for the steady stream of hits.  
> 10,000 hits. I had never imagined that this fic would be that popular.
> 
> I hope this chapter isn't too... inconsistent from the rest of the fic.
> 
> And for those who aren't in the know, I have another fic going that is a side story to this one. It's called _Perspective_ and has a few spoilers that haven't been revealed in the main fic yet. My main focus is still this fic, but that other one just would not leave me alone or move out of the way until I wrote the first chapter. (I'm sure other artists know how that is.)
> 
>  
> 
> A little explanation for my absence for those who are interested. I've already mentioned that my health took a turn for the worse back in March. During treatment, it was suggested to me to get a service dog. Now, those guys/gals are expensive doggos and there is no way my little wallet could afford one. So after doing hours upon hours of research, I learned about owner-trained SDs. In April I picked out my prospect and brought her home when she was 14 weeks old and have since been spending most of my free time and free energy working with and training her. Unfortunately, my health got a bit worse before it got better as I adapted to having her in my life now, hence the needed hiatus in May because I just could not muster the energy to write and do it coherently.
> 
> I'm not going to be able to do weekly or biweekly updates like I first started to do. My service dog in training (SDiT) takes up a lot of my energy, both physical and mental. It's going to take me at least two years to get her fully trained, but she is already helping me improve my health in small ways, ways that medication hasn't been able to do in the many years that I have been taking it. So updates are definitely going to be sporadic.


	21. Adventures in Developments and Such Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Lance is feeling better, it's time to get to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is unbetaed.

Breakfast was rushed. Pidge was eager to get back to work and Hunk, though he did try to show appreciation for the food the Olkari chef made for them, was eager to meet up with Fima and Namh and see what progress that had been made. So, he hurried through his breakfast with as many manners as he could give while Pidge nearly forgot to chew her food before swallowing it and was the first out the door.

After excusing himself, he returned to his room to don half his armor so as to not be affected by the growing intensity of the sunlight outside. He still didn’t know what would happen, but his instinct calmed once he covered up. He stuck with his black pressure suit, his greaves and cuisses, his belt, his bracers, and his helmet. He may have looked funny but he didn’t care. Afterward, he made his way to R&D where the engineers Fima and Namh would be waiting for him; he had sent a message ahead that he would be joining them today to go over designs.

They were waiting for him at the entrance of the main building. He waved enthusiastically at them. “Welcome, Yellow Paladin Hunk.” Namh greeted.

“Please, just Hunk.”

“Of course.”

“We’re eager to show you what we’ve accomplished so far and been able to discover,” Fima butted in.

“Yes, with the assistance of Research, we have obtained a 3D model of the Red Paladin and his range of motions. With it we have come to a few realizations that we need to discuss.”

“Well, let’s get to it then!” Hunk encouraged, clapping his hands together, pointing forward with them. The two engineers nodded and proceeded to guide him to their workroom. 

Inside said room large drawing board screens were mounted on adjacent walls, diagrams for what Hunk could determine to be weapons were mapped out on both of them. Three other Olkari were standing in front of them discussing matters he did not have time to eavesdrop on. Fima took the lead, taking him to a station where a holo screen and keyboard were at the ready next to two toy-sized models of what Hunk recognized to be two of the designs he had come up with while keeping Keith company in the lounge. They looked like they were whittled out of wood but the detail and texture of them betrayed that a crude skill was not what crafted them. “Cool!”

“Hunk, if you would look here. We’ve recreated digital models of two of the pilot chairs you have designed and included a simple line model of your teammate for functionality tests. As you can see, according to the mobility data that Research collected, neither of these designs adequately support him safely. This one, in particular, indicates that it would actually become quite uncomfortable within a matter of doboshes and in the event of a collision he would sustain critical injury.”

“I see what you mean. So, what does work?” Hunk was tracing a finger along Keith’s model, specifically along the length of his tail, noting the unnatural contortion that it was in order to sit in the chair and imagining the crippling injury as well as a number of collisions that would cause the break. Ouch, he thought.

“We haven’t programmed a model of your third design yet, however, early speculation is that the extended seat that has been softly angled to the floor has a high possibility of being both comfortable and safe. And then the back of the original chair does not need to be changed to accommodate your teammate.”

Hunk studied his design, picturing the two aspects together and then placing Keith on said chair. It seemed doable. “Then let’s get that idea worked up as a 3D model to make sure.” He spotted his notebook on the desk. He was about to ask something when one of the other Olkari in the room interrupted him. “Pardon, Hunk. A message from the medical team is waiting for you. It isn’t urgent but the messenger put heavy emphasis on needing your response as quick as conveniently possible.” They handed him a datapad with a recorded video message from another Olkari dressed in a grey coat.

“Paladin Hunk, your presence is requested in order to perform a full body medical scan per request of the Princess Allura as well as the advice of our leader, Ryner. We would like to see you when it is most convenient for you as we know you are very busy.”

Not understanding the Olkari written language, Hunk handed the datapad back, requesting, “Send a message back that I understand and will make my way over as soon as I have a few doboshes.”

“Of course.”

That interruption taken care of, he returned his focus back on Fima and Namh and their work, grabbing his notebook and flipping through the pages, refreshing his memory of his first ideas and pondering how to improve them. Fixing Keith’s pilot chair was only the beginning. He still needed means to pilot at full capacity and with no legs that were a big challenge to his creativity. Not only that, Lance needed some adjustments as well, and Shiro could probably benefit from a few himself.

* * *

Lance was the last of the paladins to finish breakfast though out of courtesy the others had stayed seated. “Well, I’m off to get scanned. Who knows how long that will take. And much as dislike such stuff, might as well get it over with.”

“Want some company?” Shiro asked.

“Nah,” Lance lied. He did so for the sake of Shiro’s mental health. Being in that place once was more than enough. Everyone either knew or had a hunch that Shiro didn’t like hospitals or such environments because of his experiences with the galra and their experiments. “Go relax with Keith.”

“Are you sure?”

Lance made shooing motions with both hands. “I’ll be fine.”

Keith stood. “Come on, Shiro.” He grabbed the half-dragon’s forearm and tugged lightly. Shiro smiled faintly and got to his feet. “Alright, alright.”

Back in the hallway, Keith let go of Shiro’s arm and suggested, “Let’s take Black. You can still safely pilot and I doubt the Olkari are ready to make adjustments.”

“You just don’t want to ride in Olkari vehicles anymore,” Shiro replied, softly folding his arms.

Keith gave a small smile and folded his in turn. “Same to you.”

“I’ve been called out,” Shiro chuckled, tilting his head. “And on that note, we’re walking.”

“I’m okay with that.”

Chuckling, the two made their way to the elevator just as Lance entered the hallway having excused himself from the table moments before.

* * *

Given that he couldn’t ride in the Olkari vehicles, Lance had the receptionist call a guide for him. The receptionist, surprisingly, did him one better. They handed him a tablet with a map of the immediate area using symbols instead of text to identify places. Lance could easily decipher them. Also indicated on the map was directions to the medical building. “The Altean advisor mentioned something about you wanting to explore the area after your duties had been fulfilled. A few of us came up with this modified version of a tourist map for your benefit.”

Holding it up, Lance thanked them and made his way out. As he walked, he fiddled with the map, zooming in and out on places of interest. He made a mental note of which ones he wanted to visit.

At the building he dubbed a hospital, an Olkari in familiar clothing was waiting for him. “Greetings, Blue Paladin Lance. We’ve been expecting you.”

“Just Lance if you would. Less of a mouthful,” Lance responded, pocketing the tablet in his jacket.

“Of course. Please, follow me.”

The centaur’s resolve began to wane. He hated hospitals. The majority of the time they were never good news because people in them were in them because they were seriously hurt or seriously sick. His abuela had been in the hospital numerous times before he was even born, fighting a bout of breast cancer. He had heard the horror stories from his siblings who had watched her decline while on chemo and there were several times when she had been admitted due to unstable health. After the cancer went into remission she suffered a stroke and was admitted for that, coming back with a slur to her speech as a result.

No, he did not like hospitals.

So absorbed was he in his thoughts that he was not aware that he had reached his destination. The sound of someone saying his name snapped him to attention. “Lance? Are you alright?”

“Yeah…” he began weakly, a crack in his voice. “I’ll be okay. Let’s get this scan or whatever done as fast as possible.”

“We will. Please remove your clothing and we’ll get started right away.”

The techs quickly ran into a problem with Lance. 

Similar to Keith, he would not completely fit on the bed of the space MRI when on his back. And unfortunately, having his back end supported by two techs wasn’t a doable solution as the end of the table dug into his horse back from the weight. So they had to call in a favor from a different department and have a table extension brought in which took too long in his opinion. While they waited for the delivery, he stood dressed in a measly privacy gown in the room, tail swishing in nervousness as the Olkari techs milled about, checking things and making calculations to accommodate his peculiar anatomy.

Table delivered, they ran into another problem; his legs stuck up too far for the arm to pass over him. He tried to tuck them in close, but without a flat surface to press against, there was just no getting them to listen to his commands. And the table was too narrow for him to lay on his side with his legs tucked.

So he was yet again standing in the room mostly naked when Hunk entered. “Hey, Lance.” The troll instantly picked up on his friend’s unsettled demeanor. “Not good, huh?”

“No,” Lance agreed, his arms folded tightly and his brow struggling to stay level. His tail thrashed forcefully causing the ends to whack his sides. “I don’t fit on their scanner and they’re currently trying to figure out how to make adequate adjustments so they can get the scans they want. But, metal bending aside, they’re medics, not engineers.”

“Get your clothes back on,” Hunk instructed before approaching one of the three techs gathered around the space MRI. “I have a proposal for you. Put me ahead of Lance since I don’t necessarily need drastic adjustments to the equipment. Then, after I’m done, I’ll help you as best I can to make it accommodate him. How does that sound?”

The lead medic was the one to answer the troll from behind. “It’s the best idea we’ve had since we ran into this dilemma. We’ll do as you suggested. If you would please remove your armor and clothing.”

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

“Even underclothes?”

“We do have privacy gowns, Yellow Paladin. We Olkari are not that inconsiderate of another’s privacy.”

“Oh good. And it’s Hunk. Everyone needs to get the message that we just want to be referred to by our names, not titles.”

“Apologies, Hunk.” A tech offered him a gown and guided him to an area behind a curtain so he could change. 

Lance needed a distraction so he talked to Hunk while the troll stripped. “Uh… how goes… how goes the project thing you’re working on?” Swallowing, he added, “Whatever it is you’re working on.”

“Right now my main focus is on the pilot chairs. Fima and Namh made these neat diorama-sized models out of wood. All niftiness aside, it’s going to be a challenge. Since Keith got hurt, his seat is the first one I’m working on. And my predictions of his range of motion were off.”

“How did you find that out?”

“The Olkari captured him in motion yesterday and with that data, they created a computer model of him to test out the chair designs with. The first two I came up with the other day while Keith was in the pillow fort don’t work because he would break his spine or his tail given the right impact.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah,” Hunk agreed, stepping around the curtain, his armor up against the wall behind him. The green gown was tight on him and Lance could tell it didn’t close all the way in the back; another reason he hated hospitals. When the troll stepped forward, the centaur firmly kept his eyes above the waistline. As a result, he noticed Hunk had a very hairy back as a troll. Not thick enough to be fur, but definitely very hairy.

“I’m ready,” Hunk said to the medic and they’re techs.

They immediately went to work while Lance stood close to an open wall to stay out of the way, trying his best to regain his calm. What’s that phrase Keith is always muttering? Patience yields focus?

Yeah, he’ll do that.

* * *

Pidge flopped in her chair, pulling down her blindfold and scrubbing her face with frustration. She and the other engineers had run into six more failures in their search for a material that would suit Pidge’s demands. The most common one was transparency. Of course, they were running computer models and due to the thoroughness of them, each one required a good length of time to complete.

“Pidge, why don’t you take a break. Medical did want a full scan of you per request of the Altean advisor. Perhaps you could fulfill that request?”

“Much as I’m disinclined to, might as well.” Slipping her blindfold back on, she shoved herself out of her chair and headed towards the entrance of the building with a wave goodbye over her shoulder, scuffing her feet occasionally as she walked.

With the help of a guide that had been summoned by the front desk, Pidge had entered the room shortly after Hunk had changed and was talking with the space MRI tech. She was not expecting to see what she did and threw her arms up across her face, spinning hastily around with an “A WARNING WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE!” directed at everyone in the room.

“Pidge?” Lance asked, surprised as he looked over his shoulder.

“SORRY PIDGE!” Hunk hollered across the room, reaching behind himself to try and tug the small gown closed to no avail.

“Why don’t we wait out in the hall,” Lance suggested, approaching and placing a hand on his teammate’s shoulder to guide her out.

“That sounds like a fabulous idea,” she responded, dropping her arms but keeping all snakes focused on the exit. Outside, she slammed her back against the wall, wincing as the force pinned her small wings, and slid down, resting her arms on her bent knees and sighing heavily. Lance moved to her other side and got belly down, also sighing. “This is turning out to be a cruddy morning,” he complained quietly.

“Agreed.”

“You here for a full scan too?”

“Yup,” she popped.

“You’ll be next after Hunk then. They have to jerry-rig the machine before they can get to me.”

“How long have you been here?” She looked up at him with her snakes leaving her head pressed against the wall.

“Over a varga.”

“I’m sorry.”

Lance itched to hug himself but left his hands in his pockets. “It can’t be helped.”

A moment of amicable silence mosied past them. “What are you going to do afterward?” Pidge asked as she drew circles on her knee with her right hand.

“Go over to wherever for mobility testing.”

“That’s actually more fun than getting scanned. You’re essentially doing motion capture.”

Lance chuckled at that, smiling faintly.

“And after goofing off for the Olkari -because how can you not call acting like an idiot in front of cameras goofing off- what are your plans?”

“Play tourist.”

“You don’t have any money. Neither of us does.”

“Then a window shopping tourist.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Better than doing nothing.”

The doors opened to reveal Hunk dressed in his black pressure suit only. “Pidge, I figure you want to get this over with so you’re up. And, again, I’m sorry about before.”

“Not your fault,” she replied, a slight pink dusting her cheeks as she hurriedly stood and entered the room. “If Hunk is any indication of what to expect, neither of you had better come in while I’m getting scanned or so help me you two will live miserable lives for a phoeb.”

“Got it,” the two men jinxed as the doors shut behind her.

After a tense moment, Hunk commented under his breath, “I’ll get my armor after she’s done.” He then sat down cross-legged next to Lance who was thumping his tail intermittently against the floor.

* * *

When Keith and Shiro docked, the only occupants of the castleship were the space mice and Kalteneker. Curious about who had used the docking elevator, the mice scurried through the vents until they caught sight of the two paladins making preparations for a day out. They watched, since the two were the only interesting occurrences for the time being, following them to Black’s hangar, each paladin carrying a bag of supplies and equipment over their shoulders. When the two boarded the Lion, the mice left the hangar to find Kalteneker.

Keith was a little surprised to see how Shiro had to squish himself into the pilot seat. “I guess you need some adjustments too,” he said from behind the half-dragon’s left shoulder, his hand grasping the back of the chair, his tail bunched up behind him.

“That would be nice but Hunk needs to focus on you and Lance.”

“Knowing him, he’s got you in mind as well.”

Black lit up, ready to go. “Where do you have in mind to go?” Shiro asked, gently exiting the hangar in consideration of his unsecured passenger. It also wasn’t like either of them was in a rush to be anywhere.

“Head to the forest and just fly over it until we see a good spot to land.”

“Play it by ear it is,” Shiro chuckled. He was looking forward to this. Keith grinned at the faint giddy expression that was on his brother figure’s face. A chance to explore without the doom of the war was not something they had come by since joining Allura and Coran. And though the war was still raging, this small grace was not going to be passed by.

* * *

Apparently, Hunk had suggested the medical techs call for one or two engineer techs to help adjust the MRI. Just as Pidge had finished with her scan and was waving goodbye to him and Lance sitting outside, she passed two Olkari Hunk recognized only by their clothing. He waved them in and got to business. The end result was that the arm of the space MRI was raised so Lance could lay on both his backs. For Lance’s comfort, Hunk stayed behind.

After the ordeal was over and Lance was back in his clothes while Hunk was back in what armor he had chosen to wear, the two exited the building, the centaur heaving a big sigh of relief and letting his arms swing listlessly and head droop. “I never want to be in a hospital gown again, half horse or otherwise.”

“I agree with you there, minus the horse part.” Hunk patted Lance’s flank. “I’m headed back to the engineers. Want to come with me since the research department is in the same building or do you want a breather?”

“Pidge says that the motion testing is actually fun so I’m not too stressed about it. I completely understand if you want to get back there faster but I have to walk. I would like the company though.”

“My work is important but the welfare of friends is even more so. I’ll walk with you.”

* * *

“Up ahead,” Keith began, pointing over Shiro’s shoulder. “See that recess in the canopy? That’s a clearing and it should be big enough for Black to land.”

“Then that’s our heading,” Shiro smiled. He gradually dropped altitude until he was skimming over the treetops with Black’s claws, gently coming to a stop above the clearing to land. Both Keith and he were smiling at the sight outside the dash; an untouched meadow of tall grasses with a small watering hole off center, it’s crystal clear waters reflecting the blue of the sky and the intermittent clouds. Keith’s tongue was investigating even though they hadn’t even left the cockpit. Shiro caught sight of it and laughed lightly. “Someone’s eager.”

Keith shoved the half-dragon with a fair amount of force, embarrassed. “I can’t help it. The stupid thing has a mind of its own the majority of the time.”

“Let’s go then and give that instinct of yours something to investigate that isn’t inside a metal Lion.”

Outside, the two paused just in front of Black’s open maw to take in deep breaths of the crisp air. Shiro felt a weight lift off of him and Keith was just plain excited. “Lead the way,” Shiro encouraged. “You’re more in tuned with your mythical side than I am.”

“That’s got little influence on my hunting skills I’ll have you know.”

“Still, you’re better than I am.” Shiro gripped Keith’s shoulder lightly causing the other man to grin fondly.

“This way then,” he said and slithered off into the grass. Shiro waited until he could follow without stepping on the naga’s tail. Keith slithered his way through the grass towards the edge of the meadow towards the trees, tongue exploring the scents. “Shiro, relax a little. Get used to your senses while we’re here.”

Shiro’s shoulders slumped a little, the tension easing only minutely. “I can’t help it.”

“Don’t focus on it then. Focus on what your senses are telling you. For instance, what do you smell?” Keith heard Shiro take in a deep breath through his nose… and sneeze. “Hextghnah!”

Keith laughed lightly.

“Quit it,” Shiro complained, sniffing.

“Anything catch your interest?” the naga asked.

“A nose full of dust is not interesting.”

“Try again.”

Shiro cautiously took in a sniff, picking up various mild scents that he found pleasing and calming. He also picked up the smell of dirt, moisture and… something very sweet. “Is that…?”

Keith had caught the scent too. “Yes. And it’s close. When we find it, control yourself and don’t eat it all or else you’ll guarantee hardship for the colony, if not a complete collapse.”

“I know, I know. I’m the one that taught you that. And I know how to restrain myself,” Shiro defended, folding his arms as he came up next to Keith who was searching for the source of the scent.

“Not,” was the naga’s deadpan reply. “We didn’t bring anything that it could be carried in without the majority of it going to waste.” They started moving again.

“While we’re looking, look for wax leaves, big ones. That should work.”

“Makes sense.” Keith paused, eyes scanning the area while his tongue busied itself looking for the source of their quarry. “You think the others will like it?”

“I don’t know about Hunk or Lance, or even the Alteans, but Pidge has never eaten it raw. It’s always been processed, or in my opinion, ruined.” The half-dragon abruptly pointed up ahead to Keith’s ten o’clock. “There!”

High up in the long hollow of a thick tree, a beam of sunlight illuminating its golden hue, was their quarry. Keith’s eyes widened. “That’s a lot!”

“Jackpot!” Shiro exclaimed with excitement, a wide toothy smile on his face with a childlike shimmer in his grey eyes as he pumped his fists. His tail was downright wagging. Keith stifled a snicker; good thing the others weren’t here, Shiro would be absolutely mortified at how much of a kid he was acting like and completely ruining his ‘professional’ image.

“Let’s find some leaves,” Keith interrupted, starting to move again. Shiro followed, but not without a lingering glance at the tree.

* * *

“Okay! Now that I’m back, what have we got?” Hunk asked as he stepped into the room, having said goodbye to Lance at the reception desk where a guide would collect him.

Namh waved him over. “This new design with the added ramp to the seat seems to be the most secure for your teammate as well as comfortable. His entire tail does not rest on it but with some maneuvering, it is possible that he can either wrap the remaining length around the chair or have it gathered underneath the dashboard.”

Hunk wrapped a finger around his chin. “Part of the piloting controls include two pedals on the floor. I had an idea that he could push up against specialized stilts attached to those pedals with his tail.”

Fima shook their head.”According to the mobility data from Research, your teammate does not have that fine of a range of motion. Something else must be done if what you said is true.”

Hunk sighed. “Well, Lance can’t operate the pedals either because of the way he’s built. Let’s put that on the back burner and come up with adjustments for Shiro.”

Fima brought up Shiro’s data, showing a basic polygon figure of the half-dragon with rulers on various sides measuring height, width, wingspan, and the length of his tail. They then brought up the pilot’s chair with its dimensions. “How does he currently use the chair?”

“Not very comfortable I can assure you of that,” Hunk frowned. “The addition of wings and a tail makes it impossible to sit in the chair properly. I’m sure that he can only sit half-way on the seat or less. And his feet are bigger than mine and I barely fit on the pedals myself so I don’t know how he does it.”

“So,” Namh began, “Adding width to the chair would allow him more space for his wings so they aren’t so hard pressed up against his main body. If we were to add an opening at the base of the back, he could thread his tail through it and thus be able to sit back and be supported as intended.” They made adjustments to the digital model as they spoke. Hunk nodded, easily understanding. “We’ll have to run that by him, see if he likes that design. On that note, we’ll have to run all the adjustments by the rest of the team for their approval before actually starting on the Lions.”

“Making full-sized prototypes won’t be a problem,” Namh answered.

“Good to know.” He grabbed his sketchbook from the tabletop. “Now, what can we do for Lance?”

“His data has yet to arrive from Research,” commented Fima.

“Well, while we wait, I’m going to brainstorm.” Pulling his pen from the wire spiral holding the pages together, he began to draw.

* * *

“Shiro! We’ve got enough!” Keith chastised the half-dragon who was up the tree handing chunks of the sweet treat down to the naga who placed them on large wax leaves. There were approximately twelve moderate sized bundles. “Get back down here.”

Shiro licked his fingers clean before making his way down, his dragon claws giving him excellent purchase on the bark of the trunk. Keith made himself busy wrapping up what Shiro had handed him. After he heard the thump of his brother figure touching the ground he said, “Let’s put these in Black and then wash up,” as he collected half of them and handed them over into Shiro’s waiting arms. “After that, let’s see what we can catch for lunch.”

* * *

“Hunk, we just received your teammate’s mobility data from Research and are ready to begin testing configurations.”

“That’s great! So, here are three ideas that I’ve come up with using only what I know about Lance from what I’ve personally observed.” Hunk showed his sketches to the two Olkari who nodded in turn and began programming digital versions of them for testing.

As soon as they finished and began to manipulate Lance’s line model, he could see that the first two designs would not work. “Yeah, that one would definitely not hold him securely. A love-tap from the side would send him crashing into the control panel. But this one, this one has promise. The seat is too high though, he’ll be hitting his head on the roof of the cockpit. So if we lower that and then add the seat belts from this third design here, that should secure him. However, like Keith, he can’t use the pedals.”

“I concur with you about the designs, Hunk,” Namh said. “However, neither of these support his upper half. Intense G-forces will surely put a strain on his upper spine.”

Hunk thought for several minutes, his mind imagining how to create a support for Lance’s human back that would not interfere with his piloting or the rest of his body. Three ideas came to mind but they all seemed very cumbersome and time-consuming to put into place and when they were in the midst of battle, time was not something they could waste. And then he thought of how the chairs slid forward to the controls. What if there was a second part of the chair that slid in after Lance had been situated? He roughly sketched the idea and showed it to Fima. “Program this addition and let’s see if it will work.”

Fima promptly went to work.

“I believe this design of yours will work splendidly, Hunk,” they commented as the three of them watched the animation that showed theoretically how Lance’s unique chair design was intended to work. “We’ll get to work on the full-sized models as soon as possible.”

“Great!” Hunk answered with a big toothy grin, which for him might have seemed menacing had the Olkari not known him prior to the transformation. His bracer beeped, grabbing his attention. Looking at it, he saw that it was time to get dinner started.

Shoot, he missed lunch. “I’ll leave you guys to it then. I’ve got to get back to help in the kitchen.”

“Leave it to us,” Namh answered, offering their hand. They clasped forearms with Hunk before he left.

* * *

Pidge sighed, her breath heavy with disappointment. Neither sample had satisfied her expectations well enough that she could feel safe making a visor out of them. While she could see through the translucent material, so could whoever she was looking at. She discovered this using Olkari tech that she didn’t know the name of but basically it mimicked a human eye looking back at her and indicated that despite the colored obstruction, there was still too much exposure than she wanted to risk. Flopping back in her chair, she wanted to run her fingers through her hair but stopped short when both hands touched the bodies of her snake hair.

The Olkari in the room looked at one another before one spoke quietly, “Perhaps you should break for today and come back with a fresh mind tomorrow? We’ve done a lot of testing and I’m sure your mind and body are exhausted. Rest will do you well.”

Letting her body go slack in the chair even though it caused the edges to press uncomfortably into her wings, she looked towards the ceiling even though her eyes were once again blindfolded. “Maybe you’re right.” She pulled out her phone to check the time. “It is getting late. I should head back for dinner. Maybe Hunk will have some ideas. Brainstorming with him usually leads to answers.”

“An excellent means to stay positive, Pidge. Go rest. And we’ll pick up again tomorrow.”

Pushing herself out of the room, she collected her laptop and said some goodbyes before leaving the building, choosing to walk back to the hotel instead of hailing a ride so she could allow herself time alone to think.

* * *

That evening, dinner was indoors. Hunk had worked with the Olkari to prepare some of their favorites and they were all eager to dig in except…

Keith and Shiro were late.

“Did I miss something?” Lance began. “Did they just decide to camp out and not tell us?”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t do that without telling anyone. Keith might, but Shiro is more responsible than that,” Pidge answered. Her elbows were on the table supporting her head; she was tired, hungry and frustrated.

Hunk was about to say something when the sound of loud conversation and thrumming footsteps on the other side of the door to their reserved dining room interrupted him. “Keith.. Keith no, I’ve got the door. Yes. Your hands are fuller than mine. Just… hang on.”

Everyone was watching the door expectantly, though what they were expecting was anyone’s guess. When it finally opened and Shiro poked his head in, he immediately said, “Sorry we’re late everyone,” before even fully coming into the room. He was holding several green packages in one arm, having used his flesh hand to open the door. He stepped aside for Keith who in turn had just as many in his arms. “We come bearing gifts,” was Shiro’s explanation before anyone could ask.

“What did you find?” Allura asked, intrigued that they had even decided to bring something back from their outing.

Keith quietly set his load on a table against the wall before claiming his seat, glaring at Lance who was glaring at him, wordlessly complaining about the naga’s tardiness. Shiro took his seat after setting a hand-sized bottle wrapped in leaves and twine next to everyone’s plate. “Desert!”

Keith just smirked when the others looked to him for clarification.

“Okay, now I want to skip dinner and see what you guys found,” Lance said, his attention off of Keith in favor of staring at the wrapped bottle. Immediately thinking that he might have hurt his best friend’s feelings he quickly amended, “Not that you’re cooking is bad or anything, Hunk. I’m just super curious.”

“No offense taken. I’m just as curious as you are,” the troll answered.

“As am I,” Allura quietly added.

“Shhhiiirrrooo…” Pidge pleaded in a way similar to her brother when he wanted something from him.

The half-dragon held up his hands. “Okay, okay. You can look.”

Instantly everyone, aside from the Red and Black paladins, was unwrapping their share. 

“YOU FOUND A HONEYCOMB!!??” Hunk nearly shouted in surprise. Inside the bottle was a piece of honeycomb floating in golden honey.

“No way!” Lance added, looking back and forth from his portion to his leader.

“Space bee vomit,” Pidge cackled. Shiro tried to frown at her attempt to kill the mood but failed.

“This is a treat! Thank you, Keith, Shiro,” Allura responded, looking at each in turn. “Shall we begin?”

Nods from all around, they all dug in.

Several minutes in, Allura asked, “Hunk, Pidge, how is work proceeding for each of you?”

Pidge was the first to answer. “Not good. Everything that I’ve tested with the Olkari has come up short. I don’t think there’s a material in the whole Universe that can filter my vision as I want it to and feel safe looking at other people eye to eye.”

Hunk looked blankly at her. “Why didn’t you think of doing a reflection then? Like one-way glass?” He paused to put down his fork so he could gesticulate. “In the myth, Perseus was able to kill Medusa by looking at her reflection on his shield, right? So her stone death glare couldn’t kill him because he wasn’t looking at her directly.”

Pidge slapped her forehead and just about face planted into her dinner. “Of course! The answer was right there! So simple and I was making it more complicated than it had to be.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Pidge. You’ve had a lot on your plate,” Lance consoled.

“Lance is right, Pidge. You’ve been doing a lot at once so it makes sense that you would overlook things,” Shiro added.

“I’m in a similar situation actually,” Hunk began, picking up his fork again to play with his food while he talked. “Modifications for the chairs are done, they just need to be tested and approved by each of you through full-sized models that the Olkari will make, however, there is still the issue of accurate piloting since you, Keith and Lance, can’t operate the floor pedals. And the information that we got from research basically proved that my ideas weren’t going to work.”

“You can’t expect to solve everything in one day, buddy,” Lance said. “You’ve made remarkable progress already.”

“I know, I know. It’s just that, there’s a war out there that we are currently sidelined from and every minute that we can’t fight, even though Zarkon is down, the galra are still hurting innocent people.”

“Your compassion is great, Hunk. But, try to think in smaller steps. Seeing the entire picture without the finer details will get you overwhelmed,” Allura said.

“Keep your goals small and you’ll get to your bigger goal faster than you think you can basically,” Shiro rephrased. 

“How about something like hand breaks?” Keith quietly put in between bites.

“Leave it to the gearhead to come up with a random idea,” Lance retorted.

“No, no, Keith’s on to something right there,” Hunk defended.

“Piloting a hoverbike is controlled by the handles just as much as the pedals,” Shiro began, “The hand controls of the lion, though they have a wider range of what they manage, are similar to those of a hoverbike, but still simplified. So I see where Keith got the idea. It would take some getting used to, but I know you can do it.”

“That would require more extensive modifications than the Lions may allow,” Allura worried, only half understanding what they were talking about. “And my father, King Alfor, used to say that as much as he built the Lions, they also built themselves. So not everything about them has ever been entirely understood.”

“Then maybe they’ll make the finer adjustments themselves,” Pidge offered. “It’s not like they don’t know our ability to pilot has been compromised.”

“Aside from the Lions’ permission, we need to find out if the Olkari can even start the modification before the Lions can complete it,” Hunk countered. “So I’ll ask Fima and Namh tomorrow after pitching the idea.”

“Change of topic, slightly; Whatever happened to those medical scans that we all had to go through?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, that was humiliating just so you know,” Pidge directed at Coran with as much of a glare as her snakes could give.

Coran answered without missing a beat. “They are still waiting on data from Keith’s monitoring before making final assessments. However, I have already been comparing your past scans with your current scans, at least for Lance and Shiro who have been in the pods prior, and there are some interesting changes that I’ll go over with you later. I’ve been told that I likely have a better understanding of the differences because I have been with you longer and have worked with you all through battle injuries and sickness. I don’t think I’m that well versed but maybe there is a bit of truth to the assumption.”  
Keith glanced down at the equipment he had been hooked up with yesterday as though he had temporarily forgotten about it. Maybe he had, Shiro thought. The conversation continued.

“How much later, Coran?” Lance asked.

“Not until tomorrow if I have to be precise. I would like all the information to give to you all at once instead of in increments.”

Lance sighed and perhaps there was a bit of a whine in there as well. His dinner finished, he moved to open his jar of honey as though its sweetness would console his impatience. Keith also went after his which sparked a question in Lance’s mind. “If you can’t taste anything, Keith, why are you eating honey?”

“Just because I can’t taste it doesn’t mean I’m going to turn it down when it’s available,” the naga answered in a matter-of-fact tone. As if to prove a point, he spooned some into his mouth, letting the viscous liquid coat his tongue and be absorbed by it. He was surprised that he could actually faintly taste it. Though his expression perked up, he wasn’t going to tell Lance. He might tell Shiro later.

Pidge and Shiro were the next to open theirs. She poked at the honeycomb with her fork. “Is that even edible?”

“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, Pidge. It’s something of an acquired taste,” Shiro answered.

Nodding, she dipped her spoon and sucked on it.

Hunk was the last to open his bottle but paused when he saw Allura’s very shocked expression. “Allura?”

“How can you all eat something so extremely sweet on its own? Doesn’t it overwhelm you?”

“It’s sweet but I wouldn’t say it’s overwhelming,” he answered. “Maybe Alteans have a more sensitive response to sweet things?”

“Perhaps.”

“If you don’t eat it straight, how do you usually eat it?” Lance asked.

“Typically one dilutes a gram or two in hot water and consumes it like a tea. Sometimes it is mixed with a spread and eaten on crackers.”

“Oh, so you have to tone it down with other stuff to enjoy it, I see.”

“It’s alright if you eat yours later, princess. I won’t take offense,” Shiro said. Keith nodded his agreement, dipping his spoon like Pidge had and sucking on it.

“What’s with the extra that you brought?” Hunk asked Keith.

“Shiro and I thought that maybe the Olkari in the kitchen might want some to cook with,” the naga answered. “Turns out they don’t eat honey.”

“I hope we didn’t offend them with you two harvesting some,” Hunk worried.

“It’s nothing like that,” Shiro assured as he played with his piece of honeycomb. “It’s not a staple of their diet. In fact, when we suggested that they cook with it, they were kind of appalled.”

“Much the same way they reacted to us eating meat,” Keith added.

“So rather than go back to the castleship with it, we just brought it with us.”

“Where did you find it and how did you not get stung to the point of no return?” Pidge asked as she put the cap back on her barely touched bottle.

“Oddly, they left us alone,” Keith answered, capping his as well; about a sixth of his bottle was gone.

“I’ve had enough. I think this might actually have a higher sugar content than Earth honey,” Hunk commented, capping his bottle. His was about the same as Keith’s.

Lance capped his when it was half empty.

Shiro’s bottle was just plain empty, the piece of honeycomb gone. They all thought that it was because he was a half-dragon. Only Keith knew that their leader could not hold himself back when it came to honey. The man would eat it until he made himself sick from the sugar.

Allura and Coran seemed relieved that not all of the Paladins had no common sense. Allura was concerned about Shiro’s welfare, however, even though he didn’t show any outward signs of illness. She might ask him about it later.

Dinner finished, she said, “You’re all free to do as you will. Although, Hunk and Pidge, I doubt your respective Olkari teams will allow you to continue to work. You’ve both been doing so all day. Please, relax.”

“Who’s up for games in my room?” Lance asked enthusiastically.

“I’m going up to the roof,” Keith answered as he grasped his bottle of honey and pushed away from the table.

“Spoilsport.”

“Lance, he doesn’t have a phone like Pidge, you and I do. I assume that’s what you meant when you asked about games,” Hunk said.

“That was one idea, yeah. But, I was hoping everyone had their own ideas.”

“Keith is probably following an instinct,” Shiro commented as he stared through the bottle to the bottom of it, looking for more honey.

Keith shrugged as he stood.

“What will you do, Shiro?” Allura asked.

“Probably join Keith on the roof and spend some time shifted. I think I scared some Olkari passer-bys in the garden yesterday.”

“And you’re not going to while on the roof?” Pidge asked sardonically.

“I hope not. How many people think to look up on a whim?” Shiro coughed lightly. “What will you do, Princess?”

“Ryner has given me some reading material about the history of Olkarion from the past 10,000 years. I think I’ll spend some time in one of their gardens reading.”

“I’ll be joining the princess,” Coran answered before he could be asked. “It’s always good to be updated on current events, so to speak.”

“Alright. I will see you all tomorrow,” Allura said as permission for the group to disperse.

Keith collected the other bottles with the intent to stash them in his room to keep them away from Shiro until he could get them back to the castle kitchens. Shiro saw this and inwardly moped; he had hoped to snag one more bottle. Keith sensed the mope and grinned to himself; Shiro was such a kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize profusely for the lateness of this chapter. I have a little distraction aside from life and large workloads and she walks around on four legs with a sassy, attention-demanding attitude. Her training is very slow going because she's a puppy with a short attention span. When she's not training it's play play play! Sleep is for the weak I guess.
> 
> I also apologize for Shiro being slightly out of character. I just couldn't help myself when the headcanon that he's a honey glutton came to mind. And hardly anything about his personal life is revealed in canon so... there's so much room to just goof around.
> 
> And I also apologize if this chapter doesn't flow as smoothly. I had a hard time deciding just how to write Hunk's and Pidge's thought processes and progress and it stumped me so hard that I finally just decided to be vague and let you readers come up with stuff. I have the finished working designs in my head so coming up with ones that didn't work was surprisingly hard. Said designs will be revealed in Part 2.
> 
> This may be a 3-parter 'scene'. I have no idea when the next chapter will be available.
> 
> Check out [Chronicles of a Centaur](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13779234/chapters/38148464) for Lance's perspective of the day and what he was up to.


	22. Adventures in Developments and Such Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The work continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is unbetaed.
> 
> TL;DR at the bottom.

Keith rose early the next morning as the dawn began to paint the sky over the green canopy horizon. His human skin itched beneath the black vestiture pinned beneath the brace he wore. He decided that moment that he was going to skip breakfast in favor of getting all of the monitoring equipment off. However, Medical likely wasn’t going to be available at such an hour.

Normally he would have gone to the training room to exercise -unlike what the team thought, he wasn’t always fighting combat drones, he did other things- but the castle was a ways away. Slithering out of bed he stood in front of the closed glass doors that separated him from the balcony and with his arms folded, quietly watched the dawn wax stronger, his mind mostly blank. He was in the middle of a universal war and had just won a great battle, so any average person would think that his mind would be inundated but, no, he was mostly content just to watch a natural happening, something that a good percentage of the population back home would find greatly unremarkable. As the light increased it drew his mind on the threads of memory, bringing up the mornings when he and his pop would watch the sunrise on several occasions. At first, they only watched through the windows on the top floor of the house. But, after he got older, his pop brought him to their roof for the best view. And from watching sunrises came watching sunsets, and then from sunsets came stargazing and his pop’s cryptic reminiscing of his mom.

Back then he couldn’t make much sense of it aside from his pop was a man deeply in love and sorely missing that love. Now, since the trials at the Blade base, a small smidgen of it was making some sense. 

Suddenly frustrated, he turned around and grabbed his jacket off the bed, tying it around his waist just above his belt and tucking his black shirt between himself and the sleeves. The jacket covered his knife and the computer box the Olkari had put on the belt but he didn’t think that he would be in any danger where he planned on going.

Leaving his room and riding the elevator to the ground floor, he left a message with the receptionist to be delivered to the others when they had gathered together to eat and as soon as he left the hotel, let his instinct take him exploring. Not his naga instinct, but his human one.

The metal city was quiet and still this early in the morning. Alien birds were singing their songs from the gardens and the further distant forests, their melodies carried effortlessly on a small breeze that teased his face enough to draw out his tongue. 

As he wandered he noticed that none of the tourist shops and attractions were open. If they were, he might have poked his head in one or two just to have a look-see. He had grown up realizing that he didn’t need every neat thing that he saw and wanted on the spot, and when he was put into the system, he rarely got what he wanted. After getting booted from the Garrison and then moving into that desert shack and having to fend for himself, every purchase needed to be absolutely necessary; there was no room for frivolity.

After passing a few shops, he decided he would head to Medical anyway and if the building wasn’t open or that particular Olkari wasn’t available, at least he was close by. To his surprise, the building was open but, according to the night shift nurse at the reception/help desk-their clothing the same colors as the other staff that he had seen that weren’t identified as lead physicians- outpatient physicians were not yet available. When he inquired about the wait time, their response was at least three hours for the earliest available one followed by their question to him if he knew the name of the physician he needed to see. Wishing he did because that would make meeting up with them so much easier, he had to answer no.

He was about to leave when a small, shy voice asked, “Are you from another planet?”

He turned around to find a young Olkari dressed in what he guessed were the Olkari version of pajamas that were of a forest green background with vines and flowers blooming on the shirt only. They were also missing the trademark sash and had what he figured was an air mask given the transparency of it and the narrow tube running from the side of it down to a copper-colored machine about half the size of a paper textbook but just as thick as one that was probably a portable concentrator. The color of their face was pale and thin and he couldn’t help but wondering what ailed this child. Remembering their question, he nodded, “Yes.”

“No one else around here looks like you so you have to be a traveler. Why are you here? Are you sick?”

“No.”

“Did you get hurt really bad?”

“Yes.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“Not really.”

“Did the Galra do it?”

“No. It was a training accident.”

“Training…” the child paused to think even though she was still focused on him. “Do you fight bad people like the Galra?”

 _How did they jump to that conclusion so fast?_ He thought. _There are other reasons to train_. “I fight against the Galra Empire, yes.”

“Did you win your last fight?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know about Voltron?”

He paused at the question; apparently, they didn’t recognize him as a paladin. “I do.”

“How much?”

“A bit.”

“Have you seen Voltron?”

“Several times.”

“Did you know that Voltron chased the Galra away from here so we could move back into our city?”

“Yes.”

“Wow! Not everyone knows that! You must be a special fighter that works with other fighters in a big group with secret communication stuff.”

“Something like that.”

“Wandier, aren’t you supposed to be in your room?” the nurse interrupted.

“But, it’s boring in there. And I’m not sleepy.”

“Go wait by the activity room then and I’ll have someone meet you there, okay.”

Wandier nodded and walked away.

Keith, guessing the child was female judging by the name, asked the nurse, “Who is she?”

“Wandier is a long-term resident who is well-known here in Medical. She was born prematurely shortly after the Galra occupation began. Driven from the city to avoid enslavement, we didn’t have access to the equipment necessary to help her continue to develop normally. As consequence, her lungs are at only partial capacity, a few of her other organs are compromised, and she is very prone to illness.”

“Where’s her family?”

“She’s an orphan, unfortunately. Her mother died shortly after she was born and her father was killed in combat. Everyone here on staff has pretty much adopted her, unofficially of course. And legally no one can yet as our government and legal systems are still recovering from both Lubos’ dethroning and the reclaiming of our city.” 

Something struck him after those words had been spoken. Maybe he had been around Lance too long. Maybe it was a sense of empathy. Maybe it was Shiro’s influence when the man had reached out to him. Whatever it was, he felt that the little girl he was watching make her way down the hall to turn around the corner needed him, at least for a little while. “Is she allowed visitors? I won’t stay for too long, just until I can meet with the physician I’m waiting for.”

“Not at this varga, but, I’ll make an exception.” The nurse typed something into their computer. “Go ahead and follow her. Are you sure you don’t know who your physician is?”

“I’m sure. Whoever has been communicating with Ryner and the Altean Coran about getting scans and such from the paladins, that’s who I need to see.”

“Oh! You should have told me you were a Paladin. There’s a note here informing all staff about you and the work you’re doing with Dr. Arridia and her team.”

“When will she be in?”

“Her regular shift starts in two vargas. You can come back here and the day nurse will arrange to have another staff member take you to Dr. Arridia’s lab.”

“Thank you,” he said before catching up to Wandier. He found her sitting on the floor next to a door with a window that was half its size. She looked up at him, confused. “Why are you here?”

“I thought you might want some company.”

“But, aren’t you busy being a fighter and doing fighting stuff?”

“Even fighters need to take a break every once in a while.” Just now he sounded like Shiro scolding him when he had been caught in the training room too long.

“Oh.” She began to play with her tube, weaving it around her fingers. “What do you like to do when you’re not fighting?”

“A variety of things.”

“Do you like to color? I like to color.”

He hadn’t colored in a coloring book since his pop had died. He did still doodle when he felt motivated but, never where someone else could see. “I prefer drawing.”

Her eyes lit up. “Will you draw me a picture to color? I don’t draw very well.”

“Sure,” he answered before he could really think about it, smiling faintly. “What would you like me to draw?”

“Whatever you want to draw.”

Maybe drawing for her wouldn’t be so bad. And for some reason, he figured that she had never seen Voltron before, so it was easy to decide that he would give his best effort at drawing the iconic weapon for her. A beacon of hope for so many and very few had ever gotten to see it, fewer even believed it was real. It was a part of her race’s history now, just as much as the Galra, so she deserved to know what it looked like by some means. “Okay, it’ll be a surprise then.”

He was about to pull parallel to the wall when a nurse who bore major signs of sleep deprivation and walking on borrowed energy came to open the room. When Wandier thanked them before grabbing Keith’s hand -to his shock- to pull him in, she got a mumbled grunt in response. The tired nurse patiently waited for Keith to pull his tail into the room before entering and finding a chair in the corner to sit and observe.

The room bore attempts at being jovial with bright colors on all four walls and large cutouts of simplified creatures that were likely natives of Olkarion. Signs were posted above the shelves holding various things like toys, boxed games, and school and art supplies. He was led to a small table that came up to just above where his knees would be and encouraged to sit and wait. So he sat and tried to figure out where to stick the other four meters, give or take, of himself so it wasn’t being an obstruction while the little Olkari busied herself getting supplies from shelves up against the walls. There were three other tables in the room, another short one and two that were more adult height. All of them were rather close together and had there been other kids in the chairs, the legs of those chairs would be crashing into his tail and undoubtedly cause him some pain. The likelihood of that happening though was very low. So, with some inward focus, he moved his tail so it rested behind the tucked chairs under the other tables behind him, not able to weave between the setups without having to move from where he was sitting.

She returned with her arms full of what he dubbed as space crayons and textured paper. She plopped it all on the table, most of it in front of him, before sliding into a chair and putting her concentrator on the table as well but moved to her left out of the way. “I want to watch you draw. Is that okay?”

He shrugged, nodded once and got to work selecting his tools.

The textured paper was large, probably two A4 pages side-by-side. The crayons were old and well used and weren’t covered in peeling paper like what was typically seen in publicly used supplies back home. Grabbing a black one, he started drawing the head of Voltron and worked from there. She watched intently, the occasional rattle of her breathing the only prominent noise in the room. That is until the nurse fell into a doze and started snoring. She giggled when Keith looked up for a second to confirm the source.

The staff must really trust this little girl to keep out of trouble if they allow one of their employees to fall asleep on the job like that. Either that or the nurse in question felt confident in Keith’s ability to keep the kid in line while he was with her. He doubted that. Still, she didn’t seem to be the type. So after a pause, he went back to drawing.

After a length of time passed, he set down the crayon and backed away from the paper, sliding it over to Wandier. “Finished.”

Her eyes were glued to it. To her, he had drawn Voltron in such a manner that had captured it’s magnificence and awe -as much as crayon could- and at a scale that nearly went off the sides of the page. Though to him, it wasn’t his best work, however, he had to give himself credit for working in crayon for the first time. At least the lines were mostly straight and the colors diverse enough to give depth and dimension to the piece. He had decided shortly after working on Voltron’s head that he would use the appropriate colors after all. Initially, he was just going to use a black crayon, but, surprisingly, Red threw him a grumbled incoherent series of complaints and protests.

“Wow! That’s what Voltron looks like?!”

He replied with an affirmative hum.

She ran her fingers lightly over the drawing. After several moments, she mumbled, “I can’t color this, I’ll ruin it.”

He wasn’t offended, surprisingly, though he couldn’t figure out why he was surprised; in the end, it was her choice. “I don’t mind. You can keep it as it is.”

“Will you draw me another picture?”

“Sure.”

Using a grey crayon and a new sheet of paper, he drew a quick, cartoony style Olkari with a big smile on their face. She liked that just as much as the Voltron picture. He slid it over to her and she attacked it with fervor and abused wax space crayons. He observed, a subtle smirk on his lips; maybe drawing for others to see wasn’t so bad. 

The nurse in the corner kept snoring lightly.

The way she gripped the crayons in her fist caused him to wonder if she had some fine motor control difficulties due to being born prematurely. It didn’t really matter to him though because, for such a gruff treatment of her tools, she still had a degree of control over them and was coloring with the skill of an eight-year-old. When she finished, the Olkari’s skin was bright pink for some reason and their clothes were rather bold colors compared to the subdued ones that were typically worn. “Done!”

“Very nice,” he complimented as honestly as he could; the color palette that she had selected was very clashing and was difficult to look at.

Guessing, he figured that two hours might have passed, so he stood up. “I’ve got to go now.”

“Aw, but we were having so much fun!” she complained.

“I know, but I’ve got to go and take care of what I came here for. And then I’ve got to get back to fighting.”

“Right, I forgot.” Running her fingers over the Voltron drawing again she said enthusiastically, “I’m hanging this one up in my room! Everyone is going to be so jealous!”

“Be sure to take good care of it,” he said, not sure why he did other than it felt like the right thing to say. Unweaving himself from the mess of tables and chairs, he waved at her before leaving and headed back to the reception desk. He felt strangely drained after the interaction. It felt similar to when he had to sit through diplomatic meetings, only those were much much longer so he couldn’t pin why the feeling would be the same.

His thoughts lingered on the dilemma while the receptionist called for another employee to take him to the lab.

* * *

“So, where’s Keith? Is he sleeping in?” Lance asked as they waited for the Olkari serving them to finish.

“I received word that he went ahead to Medical early this morning for an unexplained reason and that we need not wait for him,” Allura answered.

“Ah yes, Number 4 was instructed to return as soon as possible after two quintants once he had been outfitted for continuous monitoring,” Coran commented, twisting his mustache. “But I don’t think the doctor meant this early.” He stopped playing with it to look elsewhere to think a bit.

“Is that what the getup he is wearing is for?” Lance asked.

“Yep,” Pidge answered, popping the ‘p’. She had her elbow on the table, cheek resting in her palm.

“Better him than me,” he mumbled. The other three frowned at him.

Clearing his throat, Hunk quickly changed topics. “Each of you should come to Engineering around noon today so we can test prototypes, Keith included so we need to get a message to him. Well, Pidge, you really don’t have to come since you don’t need a redesigned chair. But, you can always look and give some input on the others.”

“Noted.”

“You’re crabby this morning,” Lance commented.

“My left wing is numb, the entire thing, because apparently like every other body part, wings can also be slept on wrong. And I’m sure you all can relate to how that feeling just migrates as said body part wakes up, especially when it takes its own sweet time doing so.”

That got the other three to squirm. Shiro’s wings twitched at just the thought.

They started breakfast shortly after the unpleasant imagery. And when that was done, each went their separate ways; Lance went with Hunk, Pidge back to her borrowed lab, and Shiro went with Allura to meet with Ryner to discuss other matters that the princess didn’t elaborate on but said that a paladin opinion was absolutely critical. Coran said that he was going to collect and compile some information from different sources and would meet up with the team later to report his findings.

The hour that they reconvened was around noon and at Engineering as Hunk had requested, Allura and Ryner included; Coran was the only one absent. Keith had received the message while taking care of his own business and had arrived wearing his normal attire. Shiro inquired about how the naga was feeling with just a look to which Keith replied with a faint smile and nod of his head; he was glad to be rid of that getup. What the others couldn’t see though was the brace underneath his shirt. Much to his irritation, he couldn’t rid himself of that.

The team was led by Lance to a much larger room that was Engineering’s testing lab. Immediately noticeable in the room, in a single line, were three grey piloting chairs that were having final touches made on them by the small team working with Hunk.

From his spot next to one of them, he waved them over. “Hi, guys! We’re just finishing up with the fine-tuning.”

“These are astonishing, Hunk,” Allura commented as she studied each one. “It is truly an amazing feat to conjure up practical solutions as quickly as you have. You are very gifted.”

The troll was blushing as the princess went on. Coughing into his hand, he replied, “I had help.” Coughing again, he put on his business voice. “Alrighty. This one here is Shiro’s. The way it functions is that the back of the chair is made from two panels that open up so you can seat yourself while quickly threading your tail through the accommodating hole at the base between the seat and the back. The panels then close and are secured from behind by two bars that slide through brackets on the opposite end. The chair is also wider and the arms are not attached so you have more space for those large wings and slightly larger thighs of yours.”

As he spoke, Shiro studied the chair, circling around it to see the mechanisms behind.

“Take a seat, Shiro, and tell us how it feels,” Hunk encouraged, activating the chair so the back opened up. The half-dragon obliged, easily seating himself so his tail was resting as Hunk intended. The back quickly closed just a second before he leaned back. Shiro immediately noticed how roomy the new chair was and how he didn’t have to cram himself in the seat or feel like he was falling out of it. He wiggled a bit, flexing his wings and tail. Hunk patiently waited for the half-dragon’s evaluation. Shiro smiled. “You really outdid yourself, Hunk. This is perfect.” 

“Okay, Lance, you’re next.” He beckoned the centaur over to his designated chair as Shiro stood. “With yours, you’ll sit on the seat first and as it moves forward to piloting position, the back, which is another piece entirely, will slide up, over the top of your horse half, to rest behind your human back and support you from there. To keep your horse half from sliding off the seat, guard rails will pop up once your situated.”

Even though Lance had been with Hunk all morning, the troll had shooed his friend from the testing lab so as to not spoil the reveal. Now that he got to look at it, he could see the pride that Hunk had in the design. The back of the chair waited just behind the back of the seat and the guard rails rested on the sides. Lance, however, had no idea how to get on the seat in the first place. “Hmm,” he hummed, circling the chair.

“Something wrong, buddy?”

“I haven’t tried to sit on something like a chair since T-day. I have no idea how to get on this thing.”

“Oh, right. When you got on that space MRI table you not only needed a step-stool, the techs had to push you from behind so you fit on the bed. I forgot about that when coming up with this design. Sorry, Lance.”

“Easy mistake, Hunk. Don’t fret too hard. I know you’ll come up with something.”

“Well, Keith, you’re next,” Hunk said, not one to dwell too much on things when there was other stuff that needed immediate attention. However, when he looked for Keith, he found the naga already looking at the chair. “Hey!”

“Sorry, Hunk,” Keith said, making eye contact for only a few seconds.

Hunk shook his head; he should have expected Keith to jump ahead, impatient as he was. “Well, I think your seat is pretty simple to explain. Give it a try.”

Keith had been trying to figure out how to get into the said seat with the arms in the way. Shrugging, he moved so his back was facing the middle of the chair and sat down, twisting from his waist and pushing with his arms and tail to slide back into the seat. After a minute, give or take, he was situated and quickly moved his tail to rest over the acutely angled, extended seat, rolling it a bit at the bottom so it could quickly wrap around out of the way. “I think it needs a few adjustments so I can get in quicker.”

“I see what you mean.” Hunk thought a minute. “Other than that, how does it feel?”

“Feels good.”

“Okay, seats are tested. The piloting controls I think are pretty self-explanatory and don’t need user approval. The real testing on those will be after they are installed.”

“We will begin preparations for the work to begin and soon as possible,” Ryner said. “For now, perhaps we should break for a meal?”

“That sounds great,” Shiro answered.

Just then, Coran stepped in holding a data tablet. “Ah, very good. You’re all still here. I have some important information to tell all of you.”

“Can it be shared over lunch?” Lance asked, his unspoken eagerness for food obvious.

“Actually, food intake is part of the information that I have that is very critical for three of you at least. According to the data that has been collected, you three, Keith, Lance and Shiro, aren’t getting enough to eat. Should we continue to feed you what we have been, you would soon succumb to malnutrition and worse. Everyone in Medical was shocked speechless that you haven’t been showing symptoms yet.”

“Uh, how much should they be eating then?” Hunk asked before anyone else could.

The numbers Coran rattled off stunned everyone to silence for several minutes, expressions of shock and disbelief plastered on their faces as well as their skewed body language. “I doubt even the maximum amount of food that the castle can produce per day would cover that combined, enormous amount of calories let alone nutritional values,” Allura commented, recovering first. “We will have to promptly find a solution to this.”

“Anything… uh… else we should know, Coran?” Hunk dared to ask, clearing his throat.

“Well, you and Keith have some extra organs, likely to accommodate your bigger sizes. And you, Lance, have four extra ribs when compared to your human scans we received when you were in the pods the first time.”

“What extra organs?” Keith asked. He had gotten close to Coran and was trying to read the data pad. Unfortunately, the text was in Olkarian.

“You both have two main digestive organs, one much smaller in size and one that is of a large capacity, as well as two of a few other digestive aid organs and one undetermined organ each. Lance, your lungs are much larger and more efficient, probably the reason for your extra ribs as part of your top rib cage and a second heart located in your lower rib cage. Keith, you have a large third lung located below your pelvis in the upper third region of your tail as well as a second heart; you’ll want to avoid taking hits below the belt so to speak. You also have only one large kidney as opposed to two small ones and that kidney drains into your intestinal tract instead of a separate system.”

Lance recovered enough to pick up his jaw and jab at Keith, “I guess that answers part of one question.”

“Later, Lance,” Shiro warned.

“Coran, go ahead with the rest of what you’ve learned,” Allura instructed.

“Alright, princess. Keith needs a minimum of five vargas of unfiltered sunlight for optimal health and needs to maintain a temperature of 29°C to 31°C to maintain optimal function and metabolism. 

Shiro, the answer to your external temperature dilemma has been determined to be linked to the amount of physical and mental stress that you are experiencing. The more stressed you are, the colder you become. So, do as your team has been encouraging you to do and find ways to relax and rest more often. And you do have a couple of extra organs of which their purpose has yet to be determined.

Pidge, I’m sure you’ve been told that any indications of a paralyzing stare have not been found, but your snakes are venomous. The potency and effect of that venom should be tested sooner than later but everyone understands that you have other work that you are doing.

And lastly, Hunk. Your instinctive aversion to sunlight is well founded. Should any hit your exposed skin, it would burn immediately. The stronger the light, the more severe the burn and speed in which it burns.”

“That… is a lot to take in,” Shiro answered after several moments of mutual stunned quiet. “And this was all found through the full scans that were done?”

“Plus the extra monitoring and an additional scan for Keith, yes.”

“This data shall be sent to the team responsible for the construction of your new armor,” Ryner interrupted. “The initial designs that I have seen will be insufficient given this new information about your anatomy and the location of vital organs.” She directed the last part towards Keith and Lance.

“Speaking of, what is the progress on that?” Shiro asked.

“We have yet to find a material similar to that which was used to make your originals. I’m afraid that no such thing exists on Olkarion and we’ll need to find the suitable substitute off world.”

“Since we’re on the topic, have you found anything that will work for your one-way goggles, Pidge?” Hunk asked.

“After testing thirteen samples, I believe so, yes. But, I need to go out and get more of it because there was only a small sample in the lab,”

“What did you determine will suffice?” Ryner asked.

“Something called siladianite, though I think I might either be saying that wrong or remembering it wrong.”

“No, you’re correct. The substance is a crystal mined in the colder environments of Olkarion. When pulverized, it is used in the manufacture of many items. Since the invasion and subsequent occupation by the Galra, we haven’t been able to collect resources freely or for ourselves. And now we are still getting back on our feet. I don’t even know if the mines are still accessible.”

“With your permission, I would like to take a small team in the Yellow Lion to retrieve some,” Hunk immediately offered. He glanced around to everyone else, adding, “Trolls, or the Gurubi, are supposed to live in caves, right? One way to find out if I have an affinity for that instinct too. And Yellow doesn’t need any cockpit modifications.”

“I can gather a small team to accompany you, yes,” Ryner replied.

“Great idea, Hunk,” Shiro said.

“You coming, Pidge?” Hunk asked.

“No, I’m going to crunch that data from T-day some more. I’ve got a few more ideas to try.”

“Suit yourself. Though, honestly, I think you need a break from projects.”

“What can I do in a mine?”

“Point.”

“Hunk’s on to something though. You need to take some time to learn about yourself. You’ve been so adamant about figuring out how to undo this that you’re putting yourself at a disadvantage, and that could be a great liability in the field of battle,” Shiro counseled.

The memory of how she couldn’t even open her wings for the tailor came rushing to her mind. “Alright, you’ve got a point there. I’ll take a break for a few vargas and… do something along the lines of more self-discovery.”

“For now, let’s do lunch shall we?” Lance nudged. Mutual nods from everyone was the sign for them to file out. However, instead of following the rest of the group out of the building, Keith took a detour. “And where are you going?” Lance asked, hanging behind a bit.

Without looking back, Keith answered monotonously, “As you put it on Ueclave, I need some me time.”

“Oh! You have to…”

“Don’t! Finish that sentence,” Keith literally hissed. “Figure it out on your own.”

“You’re so unfair, Keith!” Lance pouted, folding his arms.

The naga paused and after a moment, added in a gentler tone, “I’ll catch up,”

“Fine, fine.” Lance let his arms go slack as he rejoined the others.

Sighing, Keith focused on remembering where the public restrooms were, hoping that he could fit in the room if it was just a single toilet and not several stalls. He also hoped that he wouldn’t make a mess either. He hasn’t eaten that much, so it shouldn’t be a problem, right? Therefore, causing a toilet to backup wasn’t a high possibility?

Not knowing the invisible details of oneself sucked. And this had to hit while he wasn’t in the castleship or even at the hotel with the privacy of his own bathroom. He didn’t want to try holding it for the duration it would take to get back to the hotel either since this was the first time he had to go since the transformation. It seemed a bit odd that his reptilian system had already processed what he had eaten since the feast. Maybe he had kept more down than he originally thought?

Finding his target, he glanced around warily before pushing open the door and to his relief and simultaneous dismay, finding no one else in the room but it was a small space with a single toilet. He had to get creative with cramming himself in the room so the door could close as well as having ample access to the commode.

After that experience, he had more empathy for Lance.

* * *

“Hey, Lance,” Hunk began. The two were lingering at the table under the gazebo in the gardens at the hotel just enjoying one another’s company. And, to be honest, Hunk did feel a bit guilty for nudging his friend out the door when it came to working on the centaur’s new chair.

“Hm?”

“The first time you piloted Blue after transforming, would you tell me about it?”

“Is this about the flopped design you made for me?”

“Yeah.”

Lance folded his arms and looked skyward. “The cockpit is pretty cramped when I’m standing so I had to get down on my belly. I could still access the dashboard and the pilot controls without a problem. Using the pedals on the floor wasn’t possible and I did slide around even though Blue tried to help from behind with the chair.”

Hunk was quiet while he thought. “So, maybe you don’t even need a seat at all, just something to support your human back and something to keep you stationary.”

“Those guardrails still seem like a good idea. And so does that sliding thing,” Lance encouraged as leaned forward with his elbows on the table.

“You think so?”

“Yep. We can go back to the testing lab and try it out to make sure. But, I’m pretty sure they’ll work just fine. Your design wasn’t bad, there were just some extra parts to it. We can even go now if it will put your mind at ease.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m actually eager to get back to piloting Blue, but safely, so the faster we can get the Olkari to get on that, the better.”

“Are you worried about the war? About the Galra?”

“Honestly, I just miss Blue right now. Yeah, she’s still there, but not being able to fly her feels like I’ve lost a part of myself,” Lance answered, head slumping.

“I see. I can’t even begin to fathom what that feels like because I can still fly Yellow, but, seeing how it’s affecting you, I’ll make it better as fast as I can.”

“I don’t doubt it, Hunk. Because that’s the type of person you are. If someone is hurting, you’ll do anything and everything in your power to help them.” Lance had a soft smile on his face.

“Same with you, Lance. I learn from the best. I guess that’s what makes us legs.”

“Maybe.”

“Come on then. Let’s go.”

“You going to kick me out of the lab again?”

“Nah. I only wanted to surprise you. Now you know so what’s the point?”

“Just checking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being patient with me. With the upcoming holidays time and energy are becoming precious commodities and there often isn't enough of both of them at the end of the day for decent progress in writing. Sometimes, all I can manage is a few lines or maybe some edits. Weekends are usually the most productive days.
> 
> That being said, I don't expect the next chapter to be available until next year. Or after Christmas at the soonest.
> 
> Thank you in advance for your patience.
> 
> TL;DR  
> Because Keith finally uses the bathroom in this chapter here's what else happens.  
> Keith wakes up early and decides to skip breakfast in favor of getting the monitoring equipment off. He meets a sick little Olkari girl at the hospital and draws some pictures for her to color, the first one being Voltron, while he waits for the group in charge of his scans to start their shift.  
> The rest of the team eat breakfast without him and then at noon meet up with Hunk, Keith, Allura, and Ryner included, to test out the new piloting chairs. Lance's doesn't work as intended since he can't even get on it, and Keith has a bit of trouble getting into his.  
> Coran gives the details of the findings from all the medical scans. Keith, Lance, and Shiro aren't getting enough to eat, all three have extra organs, Lance has extra ribs, Pidge's snakes are venomous, Hunk's skin burns when exposed to sunlight, and Shiro gets colder the more stressed he is.  
> Ryner says that the new information will be sent to the team in charge of making the paladins' new armor, but the progress on the armor is slow because they have yet to find a suitable material.  
> The group leaves for lunch but Keith makes a detour to use the bathroom. Lance wants to know where Keith's other end is but before he can even ask, Keith silences him.  
> After lunch, Lance confides in Hunk that he feels like a part of him is missing since he can't fly Blue. Hunk inquires about how Lance flew her the first time they tried to form Voltron and after hearing Lance's story, the two decide that Hunk's design would work, there were just some unnecessary parts included in the design.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [At Least None of Us Have Gills?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12891021) by [You_Quiznaking_Quiznak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/You_Quiznaking_Quiznak/pseuds/You_Quiznaking_Quiznak)




End file.
